Popular tales from the Norse

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Oxford University

ENGLISH FACULTY LIBRARY

Manor Rosd,

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POPULAE TALES

THE NORSE

UigiVB-.C00l^lC

FBINTEO BT E. JI K. OLAAX

SDUON8TON iHD DOUQLA8, BDINBCBOH.

IiONDOM . . BU1II.T0N, ASAMI. k CO,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

POPULAR TALES

THE NOESE

GEORGE WEBBE DASENT,

D. C. L.

t AN INTRODDCTORT BSSAT ON THE OtUOIN AKD
DIFFUSION OP POPULAR TALBB.

EDINBURGH :

EDMONSTON AND DOUGLAS.

UDOCGLIZ.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

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NOTICE.

^HESE traoslatioDS from the Nm-ake FoVeeevenfyr,
coUected with such freBhueas and faithfulness by
MM. Aabjonisen and Moe, have been made at various
times and at long intervals during the last fifteen years ;
a fact which is mentioned only to account for any
variations in style or tone— of which, however, the
translator is unconscious — that a critical eye may detect
io this volume. One of them, The Master ThUf, has
already appeared in Blackwood's Magazine for November
1851 ; from the columns of which periodical it is now
reprinted, by the kind permisuon of the Proprietors.

The translator is sorry that he has not been able to
comply with the suggestion of some friends upon whose
good-will he sets ^1 store, who wished him to change
and soften some features in these tales, which they
thought likely to shock English feeling. He has,
however, felt it to he out of his power to meet their
wishes, for the merit of an undertaking of this kind,
rests entirely on its faithfulness and truth ; and the man

.yCOOgIC

who, in sach a work, wiUully changes or softens, is as
guilty as he " who pots bitter for sweet, and sweet for
bitter."

Of this guilt, at least, the translator feels himself
&ee ; and, perhaps, if any, who may be inclined to be
ofifended at first, will take the trouble to read the Intro-
daction which precedes and explains the Tales, they
may find, not only that the softening process would
have spoilt these popular traditions for all except the
most childish readers, but that the things which shocked
them at tJie first blush, are, after all, not so very
shocking.

For the rest, it ill becomes him to speak of the way
in which his work has been done ; but if the reader
will only bear in mind that this, too, is an enchanted
garden, in which whoever dares to pliick a fiower, does
it at the peril of his head ; and if he will then read the
book in a merciful and tender spirit, he will prove him-
self what the translator most longs to find, " a gentle
reader," and both will part on the best terms.

Broad SLsataiMt,
Dot. 12, ISM.

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CONTENTS.

Iktsodtctioh ix to Ixxxnii

L Tede Ain> nimm 1

n. Why the Su is Salt .... 10

m. Tas Old Dams and bbb Hxn- ... 18

IT. Boots who atb a uatcb wrra the Tbou. 28

V. Hacon Qkizzlebbakd 32

VL BOOTB WHO HADE THE PSIHCEflA UY, " ThAT'B

aStokt" 44

vn. The Qlamt who had ho Heabt ih his Body 47

TUL The Fox ab He&dbicaii . . . . S9

IX. The Mastbshaid 62

X. The Cat ox the Dotkefell ... 87

XI. Princebs on the Qlabs Hill ... 89

XU. How Oke we»t out to Woo ... 104

Un. The Cock and Hen 106

XIT. The Mabter-Sioth 106

SV. BuiTEECur U7

XVI. Tahino the Sbkew 123

XVII. Shortshanks 125

XVIH. QddbbanD' on the Hill-bide ... 149

XIX. The Blue Belt 166

XX. Why the Beab ib SrnuPY-TAiLED 177

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XXI.

xxa.

One's own Childbbn aee always

Prettiest ......

xxm.

Thii: Three rRiNCEBSBa of Whttelamd .

XXIV.

The Lassie and her Godmother

XXV.

The Three Aunts ....

XXVI.

The Cock, the Cuckoo, and the

Black-Cock

XXVII.

Rich Peter the Pedlar

xxvni.

GEKTKroE'a Bird

XXIX.

Boots and the Troll ....

XXX.

Goosey Grizzel

XXXI.

The Lad tvho went to the North Wind

XXXII.

The Master Thief ....

XXXIII.

The Best Wish

XXXIV.

The Thhee Billy-goats Gruff .

XXXV.

Well Done and III Paid

XXXVI.

East o' the Sun and West o' ths Moos

XXXVII.

The Husband who was to mikd the

HOUBE

XXXVIII.

Dapfleorim

XXXIX.

Farmer WEATHERflKr .

XL.

The Two Step-Sisters

XLI.

Lord Peter .

XLn.

The Seven Foals .

XLUI.

The Widow's Son .

XLIV.

Bushy Bride .

XLV.

Boots and his Brothers

XLVI.

The Twelve Wild Ducks

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INIBODDOTION.

It cannot escape the observatioD of even the most
careless reader, that the groundwork of many of the
Tales contained in this volume ia the flame as tihat of
those with which he has been familiar from his earliest
youth. They are Nuneiy Tales, in fact, of the days
when there were tales in nurseries — old wives' fables,
which have faded away before the light of gaa and the
power of Bt«am. It is long, indeed, since English
□urses told these tales to English childreD b; force
of memory and word of mouth. In a written shape,
ve have long had some of them at least in English
vetnons of the Contea de ma Mire V O^e of Ferrault,
and the Conlet de FSes of Uadame D'Aulnoy ; those
tight-iaced, hlgh-heeled tales of the " teacup times " of
Loais XrV. and his successors, in which the popular
tale appears to as much disadvantage as an artless
country girl in the stifling atmosphere of a London
theatre. From these foreign sources, after the voice of
the English reciter was bushed — and it was hushed in
En^and more than a century ago — our great-grand-
mothers learnt to teU of Cinderella and Beauty and the
b

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X INTBODUCTION.

Beaat, of Little Red Riding-Hood and Bine Beard,
mingled together in the Cabinet dea FSes with Sinbad
the Sailor and Aladdin's wondroiiB lamp ; for that was
an uncritical age, and its spirit breathed hot and cold,
east and west, from all qnarters of the globe at once, con-
fusing the traditions md tales of sU times and countries
into one incongruous mass of fable, as much tangled and
knotted as that famous pound of flax which the lassie
in one of these Tales is expected to spin into an
even woof within four-and-twenty hours. No poverty
of inventioD or want of power on the part of translators
coald entirely destroy the innate beauty of those popular
traditions ; bat here, in England at least, they had almost
dwindled out, or at any rate had been lost sight of as
home-growths. We had learnt to buy our own children
back disguised in foreign garb ; and as for their being
anything more than the mere pastime of an idle hour —
as to their having any history or science of their own —
such an absurdity was never once thought of. It had,
indeed, been remarked, even in the eighteenth century
— tiiat dreary time of indifference and doubt — that some
of the popular traditions of the nations north of the
Alps contuned striking resembhuices aud parallels to
stories in the classical -mythology. But those were the
days when Greek and Latin lorded it over the other
languages of the earth ; and when any such resemblance
or analogy was observed, it was commonly Hupp<%ed
that that base-born slave, the vidgar tongue, had dared
to make a clumsy copy of something peculiarly belong-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

INTEODOCTION. XI

ing to Uie twin tyrants who ruled all the dialects of tho
world with a pedant's rod.

At last, juBt at the close of that great war which
Western Enrope waged against the genius and fortune
of the first Napoleon ; jost as the eagle— Prometheus and
the eagle in one shape — was fast fettered by sheer force
and strength to his rock in the Atlantic, there arose a
man in Central German;, on the old Thunngtau soU,
to whom it was given to assert the dignity of vernacular
literature, to throw off the yoke of classical tyranny, and
to claim for all the dialects of Teutonic speech a right
of ancient inheritance and perfect freedom bctfore unsus-
pected and miknown. It is almost needless to mention
this honoored name. For ihs furtherance of the good
work which he began nearly fifty years ago, he still lives
and stili labours. There is no q>ot on which an accent of
Tentonic speech is uttered where the name of Jacob
Grimm is not a " household word." His General
Grammar of all the Teutonic Dialects from Iceland to
Engisod has proved the equality of these tongues with
th^ ancient classical oppressors. His Antiquities of
Teat(«iic Law have shown that the codes of the Lom-
bards, Franks, and Goths were not mere savage, brutal
costomaries, based, as had been supposed, on the ab-
sence of ail law and right. His nnmerons treatises
on early German authors have shown that the German
poets of the Middle Age, Godfrey of Strasburg, Wolf-
nun von Eschenbach, Hartman von der Aue, WalttH*
Ton der Vogelveide, and the rest, can hold their own

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Xll IMTRODUCrriOK.

AgEUDBt an; contemporary writers in other lands. And
lastly, what rather oonc«ms us here, his Teutonic
Mythology, his Reynard the Fox, and the collection of
German Popular Tales, which he and his brother Wil-
liam published, have thrown a flood of Ught on the early
history of all the branches of our race, and have raised
what had come to be looked on as mere nursery fictions
and old wives' fobles — to a study fit for the energies of
grown men, and to all the dignity of a science.

In these pages, where we have to run over a vast
tract of space, the reader who wishes to learn and not
to cavil — and for such alone this introduction is in-
tended— most be content with results rather than pro-
cesses and steps. To use a homely likeness, he must
be satisfied with the soup that is set before him, and
not desire to see the bones of the ox out of which it
has been boiled. When we say, therefore, ihaA in
these latter days the philology and mythology of the
East and West have met and kissed each other ; that
they now go hand in hand ; that they lend one another
mutufd support ; that one cannot be understood without
the other, — we look to be believed. We do not expect
to be put to the proof, how the labours of Grimm and
his disciples on this side were first rendered possible by
the linguistic discoveries of Anquetil du Perron andothers
in India and France, at the end of the last century ; then
materially assisted and fizrthered by the researches of Sir
William Jones, Colebrooke, and others, in India and Eng-
land daring the early part of this century, and finally have
become identical with those of Wilson, Bopp, Lassen, and

IHTRODCCTII

Max Miiller, at the present dayy The afiSnity which exists .
in a mythological and philological point of view betweeu
the Aryan or Indo-EoropeaD laoguages on the one
hand, and the Saoscrit on the other, is now the first
article of a literary creed, and the man vho denies it
pats himself as much beyond the pale of argument as
he who, in a religious discussion, should meet a grave
divine of the Church of England with the strict con-
tradictory of her first article, and loudly declare his
conviction, that there was no God. In a general way,
then, we may be permitted to dogmatise, and to lay it
down as a law which is always in force, that the first
authentic history of a nation is the history of its tongue.
We can form no notion of the literature of a country
apart from its language, and the consideration of its laii-
goage necessarily involves the consideration of its history.
Here is England, for instance, with a language, and there-
fore a literature, composed of Celtic, Roman, Saxon,
Noise, and Romance elements. Is not this simple tact
su^estive of, nay, does it not chaUenge us to, an inquiry
into the origin and history of the races who have passed
over our island, and left their mark not only on the soil,
bat on omr ^ech ? Again, to take a wider view, and
to rise from archeeology to science, what problem has
interested the world in a greater degree than the origin
of man, and what toil has not been spent in tra<;ing all
races back to their common stock? The science of
comparative philology — the inquiry, not into one isolated
language — for now-a-days it may fairly be said of a man

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TIT INTBOUncnOK.

who knows only one language that he knovB none —
but into al) the langoages of one fomily, and thus to
reduce them to one common centre, from which they
spread like the rays of the sun, — if it has not solved,
is in a fiur way of solving, this problem. When we
have done for the various members of each family what
has been done of late years for the Indo-European
tongues, its solution will be complete. In such an in-
quiry the history of a race is, in fact, the history of its
language, and can be nothing else ; for we have to deal
with times antecedent to all history, properly so called,
and the stream which in later ages may be divided into
many branches, now Sows in a single chaunel.

From the East, then, came our ancestors, in days of
immemorial antiquity, in that gray dawn of time of
which all early songs and lays can tell, but of which it is
as impossible as it is useless to attempt to fix ttie date.
Impossible, because no means exist for ascertaining it ;
useless, bacaose it is in reality a matter of utter indifference
when, as this tell-tale crust of earth informs us, we have
an mfinity of a^ee and periods to fall back on, whether
this great movement, this mighty tust to change their
seata, seized on the Aryan race one hundred or one
thousand years sooner or later. But from the East we
came, and from that central plain of Asia, now com-
monly called Iran. Iran, the habitation of the tillers
and earera of the earth, as opposed to Turan, the abode
of restless horse-riding nomads ; of Turks, in short, for
in their name the root survives, and still diatinguishes

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IMTBODnCTlON. XT

the great Turanian or UongoHan family, from the Aryan,
Iranian, or Indo-Eoropean race. It is scarce worth
while to inquire — even if inquiry could lead to any
result — what cause eet them in motion from their an-
cient Beats. Whether impelled by famine or intenuU
strifie, starved out like other nationalities in recent times,
or led on by adventurous chiefs, whose spirit chafed at
the nairowness of home, certain it is that they left that
borne and began a wandering westwards, which only
ceased when it reached the Atlantic and the Northern
Ocean. Nor was the fate of those they left behind leas
strange. At some period almost as remote as, but after,
that at which the wanderers for Europe started, the re-
muning portion of the stock, or a considerable o&hoot
from it, turned their faces eaet, and passing the Indian
C«icasas, poured through the defiles of AffghaniBtan,
crossed the plun of the Five Rivers, and descended ou
the fruitfid plains of India. The different destiny of
these stocks has been wonderful indeed. Of those who
went west, we have only to enumerate the names under
which they appear in history — Celts, Greeks, Romans,
Teutons, SlavonianB — to see and to know at once that
the stream of this migration has home on its waves all
diat has become most precious to man. To use the
words of Max Miiller, — " They have been the promi-
nent actors in the great drama of history, and have
carried to their tullest growth all the elements of active
liie with which our nature is endowed. They have
perfected society and morals, and we learn from their

U.g.VK.yC00glc

XVI ISTBODTJOTIOH.

literature and worlra of art the elemeDte of science, Hie
laws of art, and the priuciples of philosophy. In con-
tinual struggle with each other, and with Semitic and
Mongolian races, these Aryan nations have become the
rulers of history, aad it seems to be their mission to
link all parts of the world together by the chains of
civilization, commerce, and religion." We may add,
that though by nature tough and enduring, they have
not been obstinate and self-willed ; they have been dis-
tingaiflhed from all other nations, and particularly Ironi
their elder brothers whom they left behind, by their
common sense, by their power of adapting themselves
to all circnmstences, and by making the best of their
pomtion ; above all, they have been teachable, ready to
receive impresBions from without, and, when received,
to deveh)p| them. To sbow the truth of this, we need
only observe, that they adopted Christianity &om
another race, the most obstinate and stiff-necked the
world has ever seen, who, truned under the Old Dis-
pensation to preserve the worship of the one true God,
were too prond to accept the further revelation of Qtod
under the New, and, rejecting their birth-right, suffered
their inheritance to pass into other hands.

Such, then, has been the lot of the Western branch,
of the younger brother, who, like the younger brother
whom we shall meet so often in these Popular Tales, went
out into the world, with nothing but his good heart and
God's blessing to guide him ; and now has come to all
honour and fortune, and to be a king, ruling over the

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IHTRODDCTION. XVa

woiid. He went oat and did. Let hh see dow what
became of the elder brother, who stayed at home some
time after hia broUier went out, and then only made a
short jonmey. Having driven ont the few aboriginal
inhabituita of India with little effort, and following the
codTse of the great rivers, the Southern Aryans gradually
established themselves all over the peninsnla ; and then,
in calm possesuon of a world of their own, ondiBturbed by
conquest from without, and accepting with apathy any
change of dynasty among their rulers, ignorant of tlie
past and careless of the future, they sat down once for
all and tfotiyAt— thought not of what they had to do
here, that stem lesson of every-day life from which
neither men nor nations can escape if they are to live
with their fellows, but how they could abstract them-
selves entirely from their present existence, and immerse
thenuelves wholly in dreamy speculations on the future.
Whatever they may have been during their short mi-
gration and subsequent settlement, it is certain that
they appear in the Vedas — perhaps the earliest collection
which the world possesses — as a nation of philosophers.
Well may Professor MUller compare the Indian mind to
a plant reared in a hot-house, gorgeous in colour, rich in
perfume, precocious and abundant in fmit ; it may be
all this, " but will never be like the oak, growing in
wind and weather, striking ite roots into real earth, and
stretching its branches into real air, beneath the stars and
sun of Heaven ;" and well does he also remark, that a
people of this peculiar stamp was never destined to act

U.g.VK.yC00glc

XTUI INTBODDCTIOH.

a proiomeDt part in the history of the world ; nay, the
exhausting atmosphere of transcendental ideas could
not hnt exercise a detrimental inBaeoce on the active
and moral character of the Hindoos.*

* Ab a specimen of their thoughtful turn of miad, even
in the Vedas, at a time before the monetrons avatars of the
Hindoo Pantheon were imagined, and when their system of
philosophy, properly bo called, had no existence, the following
metrictd translation of the 139th hymn of the 10th boc^ of
the Rig- Veda, may be qnoted, which Profeasor UUUer assures
us is of a very early date : —

" Nor aught nor noi^ht existed ; yon bright sky
Was not, noT Heaven's broad woof ontstretcbed above.
What covered all ? vi^t sheltered ? what concealed ?
Was it the water's fathomless abyes ?
There was nut death— ^yet was there nooght immortal.
There was no confine betwixt day and night;
The only One breathed breathlesa by itself,
Other than It there nothing since has been.
Darkness there was, and all at first was veiled
In gloom profound — an ocean without light —
The germ that still lay covered in the hoek
Burat forth, one nature, from the fervent beat.
Then first came love upon it, the new spring
Of mind — yea, poets in their hearts discerned,
Pondering, tliis bond between created things
And oncreated. Comes this spark from earth.
Piercing and all pervading, or fr(»Q Heaven ?
Then seeds were sown, and mighty powers arose —
Natnre below, and power and will above —
Who knows the secret? who proclaimed it here.
Whence, whence this manifold creation sprai^ ?
The Gods themselves came later into beii^ —
Who knows from whence this great creation sprang ?
He from whom all this great creation came,

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DITBODUCTTOy. ZIX

Id this pasuve, abstract, unprogressiTe state, they
have remained ever gince. Stiffened onto castes, and
tongue-tied and hand-tied by absnrd rites and cere-
mcaues, they were heard of in dim legends by Hero-
dobis ; they were seen by Alexander when that bold
spirit pushed his phalanx beyond the limits of the
known world ; they trafficked with imperial Rome,
and the later empire ; they were agun almost lost
ngfat of, and becune fabulous in the Middle Age ;
they were rediscovered by the Portuguese; they have
been alternately peacefal subjecta and desperate rebels
to us English; bnt they have been atiU the samu
immovahle and unprogresdve philosophers, though
akin to Europe all the while ; and though Uie High-
lander, who drives his bayonet through the heart of a
bigh-caste Sepoy mutineer, little knows that his pale
features and sandy hair, and that dusk face with its
raven locks, both come from a common ancestor away
in Central Asia, many, many centuries ago.

But here arises the question, what interest can we,
the descendants of the practical brother, heirs to so
much hietorical renown, poseibly lake in the records of
a race so historically characterless, and so sunk in reveries

Whether His will crested or was ninte,
The Moat High Seer that is in highest heaven,
He koowB it — or perchance even he knowa not."
If we reflect that this hymn was composed centuries before
the time of Hesiod, we Bhall be better able to appreciate the
^ecnladve character of the Indian mind in its earliest stage.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

XI ISTBODOCTIOH.

and myBticism ? The answer ia easy. Those records
are written in a language closely allied to the primaeval
common tongue of those two branches before they parted,
and descending from a period anterior to their separa-
tion. It may, or it may not, be the very tongue itself,
but it certainly is not further removed than a few steps.
The speech of the emigrants to the west rapidly changed
witJ) the changing circumstances and various fortune of
each of its waves, and in their intercourse with the abori-
ginal population they oilen adopted foreign elements into
their language. One of these waves, it is probable, pasiung
by way of Persia and Asia Minor, crossed the Hellespont,
and following the coast, threw off a mighty rill, known
in after times as Greeks ; while the main stream, striking
through Macedonia, either crossed the Adriatic, or, still
hug^g the coast, came down on Italy, to be known aa
Latins. Another, passing between the Caspian and the
Black Sea, filled the steppes round the Crimea, and, pass-
ing on over the Balkan and the Carpathians towards the
west, became that great Teutonic nationality which, under
various names, but all closely akin, filled, when we first
hear of them in historical times, the space between the
Black Sea and the Baltic, and was then slowly but surely
driving before them the great wave of the Celts which
had preceded them in their wandering, and which had
probably followed the same line of march aa the ances-
tors of the Greeks and Latins. A movement which
lasted until all that was left of Celtic nationality was
either absorbed by the intruders, or forced aside, and

.yCOOgIC

INTKODDCTiON. XXI

driveo to take refuge in mountaio fastnesses and outlying
islands. Besides all these, there was still another wave,
which is supposed to have passed between the Sea of
Aral and the Caspian, and, keeping still in further to
\he north and east, to have passed hetween its kindred
Teutons and the Mongolian tribes, and so to have
lain in the background until we find them appearing as
Slavonians on the scene of history. Into bo many great
stocks did the Western Aryans pass, each possesrang
strongly-marked nationalities and languages, and these
seemingly so distinct that each often asserted that the
other spoke a barbarous tongue. But, for all that, each
of those tongues bears about with it still, and in earlier
times no doubt bore still more plainly about with it,
infallible evidence of common origin, so that each dialect
can be traced up to that primfeval form of speech still
in the main preserved in the Sanscrit by the South-
ern Aryan branch, who, careless of practical life, and
immersed in speculation, have clung to then- ancient
traditions and tongae with wonderful tenacity. It is
this which has given such value to Sanscrit, a tongne of
which it may be said ib&t if it had perished the sun would
never have risen on the science of comparative philology.
Before the discoveries in Sanscrit of Sir William Jones,
Wilkins, Wilson, and others, the world had striven to
find the common ancestor of European languages, some-
times io the classical, and sometimes in the Semitic
tongues. In the one case the result was a tyranny of
Greek and Latin over the non-classical tongues, and in

U.g.VK.yC00glc

ZXU INTBODtlCTlON.

the other the most uncritical and uiiphilosophical waste
of learning. No doubt some striking analogies exist be-
tween the Indo-European tamily and the Semitic stock,
jost as there are remarkable analogies between the Mon-
golian and Indo-European families ; but the ravings of
Valiancy, in his effort to connect the Erse with Phceui-
cian, are an awful warning of what unscientific inquiry,
based apon casual analogy, may bring itself to believe,
and even to fancy it has proved.

These general observations, then, and this rapid
bird's-oye view, may suffice to show the common
affinity which exists between the Eastern and Western
Aryans ; between the Hindoo on the one hand, and
the nations of Western Europe on the other. That is
the fact to keep steadily before our eyes. We all
came, Greek, Latin, Celt, Teuton, Slavonian, &om the
East, as kith and kin, leaving kith and kin behind us ;
and after thousands of years, the language and tradi-
tions of those who went East, and those who went
West, bear such an aSmity to each other, as to have
established, beyond discussion or dispute, the feet of
their descent from a common stock.

This general affinity established, we proceed to nar-
row our subject to its proper limits, and to confine it to
the consideration, first, of Popular Tales in general,
and secondly, of those Norse Tales in particular, which
form the bulk of this volume.

In the first place, then, the fact which we remarked
on Bettmg out, that the groundwork or plot of many

U.g.VK.yC00glc

INTBODnOnON. XX1I1

of these tales is conunoa to all nations of Europe,
is more Importaat, and of greater scientific interest,
than might at first appear. They fi»m, in foct,
another link in the chain of eridence of a conmion
origin between the East and West, and even the obsti-
nate adherents of the old classical theory, according to
which all resemblances were set down to sheer copying
from Greek or Latin patterns, are now forced to confess
not only that there was no such wholesale copying at all,
bat that, in many cases, the despised vemacatar tongues
have preserved the eommon traditions for more £uth-
fiilly than the writers of Greece and Rome. The sooner,
in short, Uiat this theory of copying, which some, even
besides the classicists, have maintained, is abandoned,
the better, not only for the truth, but for the lit«raiy
reputation of those who put it forth. No one con, of
course, imagine that during that long sncceesiou of
ages when this mighty wedge of Aryan migration was
driving its way through that prehistoric race, that
nameless nationality, the traces of which we everywhere
find onderlying the intruders in their monuments and
implements of bone and stone — a race akin, in all pro-
bability, to the Mongolian family, and whose miserable
remnants we sec poshed aside, and huddled up in the
holes and comers of Europe, as Lapps, and Finns, and
Basques — No one, we say, can suppose for a moment,
that in that long process of contact and absorption,
some traditions of either race should not have been
caoght up and adopted by tie other. We know it to be

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TOaV IKTBODUCTIOS.

a fact with regard to their language, &om the evidence
of philology which cannot lie ; and the witness home
by which such a word as the Qothic Atta (oi Jiither, where
a Mongolian has been adopted in preference to an Aryan
word, is irresistible on this point ; but that, apart from
such natural assimilation, all the thousand ehadea of re-
semblance and affinity which gleam and flicker throagh
the whole body of popular traditioii in the Aryan race,
as the Aurora plays and flashes in coontleBS raya
athwart the Northern heaven, should be the result of
mere servile copying of one tribe's traditiooa by an-
other, is a suppositiou as absurd as that of those good
country-folk, who, when they see an Aurora, fancy it
must be a great fire, the work of some incendiary, and
send ofiF the parish engine to put it out. No ! when
we find in such a story as the Master-thief traits which
are to be found in the Sanscrit Hitopadesa, and which
are also to be found in the story of Khampsinitus in
Herodotus; which are also to be found in German,
Italian, and Flemish popular tales, but told in aD with
such variations of character and detiul, fmd such adftp-
tations to time and place, as evidently show the original
working of the national coosciousnesa upon a stock cf[
tradition common to all the race, but belonging to no
tribe of that race in particular ; and when we find this
occurring not in one tale but in twenty, we are fcnred
to abandon the theory of such universal copying, for
fear lest we should fell into a greater difficnlty than
that for which we were striving to accoimt

U.g.VK.yC00glc

MTBODUCTIOH. XXV

To set thifl qnesUon in a plainer light, let vs take
a well-known inatance ; let m take the story of Wil-
liam Tell and his daring shot, which i^ B«d to have
beeD made in the year 1307. It is jnst possible
that tlie feat might be historical, and, no doubt, thon-
sands believe it for the sake of the Swiss patriot, as
firmly as they believe in anything ; but, trnfortunately,
this story of the bold archer who saves his life by
shooting an apple from the head of his child at the com-
mand of a tyrant, is common to the whole Aryan race.
It appears in Sazo Gmmmatieus, who flourished in the
twelfth centmy, where it is told of Palnatoki, KiLg Harold
Gormson's thane and assassin. In the tiiirteentb century
the Wilkina Saga relates it of Egill, Volondr's — our
Wayland Smith's — ^younger brother. So also in the Norse
Saga of Sunt Olof, king and martyr ; the kuig, who died
in 1030, eager for the conversion of one of his heathen
chiefs Eindridi, competes with bim in various athletic
exercises, first in swimming and then in archery. After
several famous shots on either side, the king challenges
Eindridi to shoot a tablet off his son's bead without
hurting the child. Eindridi is ready, but declares he
will revenge himself if the child is hurt. The king
has the first shot, and his arrow strikes close to the
tablet. Then Eindridi is to shoot, but at the prayers
of his mother and sister, refuses the shot, and has to
yield and be converted.* So, also, Kmg Harold

• Fomm. sag., 2, 272.
b2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

XXV) IHTBODTJCTION.

SigurdarsoD, who died 1066, backed himself against a
famouB marksman, Hemingr, and ordered him to Bhoot
a hazel nut off the -head of his brother Bjdm, and
Hemingr performed the feat.* In the middle of the
fourteenth century, the Malleus MaleScorum refers it to
Puncher, a magician of the Upper Rhine. Here in
England, we have it in ihe old English ballad of Adam
Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudsle,
where William performs the feat. It is not told at all
of Tell in Switzerland before the year 1499, and the
earlier Swiss chronicIeB omit it altogether. It is common
to the Turks and Mongolians ; and a legend of the
wild Samoyeds, who never heard of Tell or saw a book
in their lives, relates it, chapter and verse, of one of
their famous marksmen. What shall we say then, bnt
that the story of this bold master-shot was primteva)
amongst many tribes and races, and that it only cry8~
tallized itaelf round the great name of Tell by thai
process of attraction which invariably leads a grateful
people to throw such mythic wreaths, such garlands of
bold deeds of precious memory, round the brow of its
darling champion.t

• MUUer'a Saga Bibl, 3, 359.

f The following are IranElationB from 8axo, the Wilkina
Saga, and the Mulletis Maleficontm, The question is com-
pletely set at rest by Grimm, T). U. P. 353 fol. and P. 1214.

" Not is the followii^ story to be wrapped in silence. A
certuQ Polnatoki, for some time among King Harold's body-
guard, had made his bravery odious to very many of bis

.yCOOgIC

IHTRODDCTION. XXVll

Nor let any pioos Welchman be shocked if we
venture to assert that Grelleit, that famous hound upon

fellow-soldiers by the zeal with whic& he sarpasaed them in
the diEcbvge of his dnty. This man once, when talking
tipmly over his cnpe, had boasted that he wu bo skilled an
archer, that he conld hit the smallest apple placed a long
way (tf on a wand at the first shot ; which t^k, caught up
at first bjr the eara of backbitem, eoon came to the hearing of
the king. Now, mark how the wickedness of the king turned
the coofideace of the sure to the peril of the son, by command-
ing that this dearest pledge of his life should he placed instead
of the wand, with a threat that, nnlesa the author of this
promise conld strike off the apple at the first flight of the
arrow, he shoold pay the penalty of his empty boasting by
the loss of bifl bead. The king's command forced the soldier
to perform more than he had promised, and what he had
said, reported by the tongues of slanderers, boand him to
accomplish what he had not said." . . . . " Nor did
his st«r1ing conrage, though caoght iu the snare of slander,
suffer him to lay aside his firmness of heart; nay, be accepted
the trial the more readily beoaase it was hard. So Falnatoki
warned the boy urgently when he took his stand to awfut the
coming of the hurtling arrow with calm ears and unbent bead,
lest by a slight turn of his body he should defeat the practised
skill of the bowman; and, taking lurtber counsel to prevent his
fear, he tamed away his face, lest he should be soared at the
nght of the weapon. Then taking three arrows from the
quiver, be struck the mark ^ven him with the first he fitted
to the string. But, if chance had brought the head of the
hoy before the shaft, no donbt the penalty of the son would
have recoiled to the peril of the father, and the swerving
d the shaft that struck the boy would have linked them both

.yCOOgIC

IXVUl IKTBODCCTIOH.

whose last reating-place the traveller comes as be
passes down the lovely vale of Gwynant, le a mythical

in common min, I am in doubt, then, whether to admira
moat th« CQOnge of the father or the temper of the son, of
whom the one by skill in his art avoided being the slayer of
his child, while the other by patience of mind and qnietnea
of body saved himself alive, and spared the natnra] ofiectaon
of hii) father. Nay, the youthful frame strengthened tiie aged
heart, and showed as much courage in awuting the arrow as
the father skill in launching it. But Folnatoki, when asked
by the king why he had taken more arrows from the quiver,
when it had been settled that he should only try the fortune
of the bow once, mode answer, ' That I might avenge on
thee the swerving of the first by the points of the rest, lest
perchance my innocence might have been punished, while
your violence escaped scot-free.'" — Saxo Oram. Book X., p.
166, Ed. Frankf.

" About that time the young Egill, Wayland's brother,
oame to the court of King Nidung, because Wayland (Smith)
had sent him word. Eg^U was the fairest of men, and ODe
thing he had before all other men — he shot better with the
bow than any other man. The king took to him well, and
Egill was there a long time. Xow, the king wisbbd to try
whether Egill shot so well as was satd or not, so he let Egill'a
■on, a boy of three years old, be taken, and mads them put
an apple on his head, and bade Egill shoot so that the shaft
■truck neither above the head nor to the left nor to the right ;
the apple only was he to split. But it was not forbidden him
to shoot the boy, for the king thought it certain that he would
do that on no account, if be could at all help it And he was
to shoot one arrow only, no more. So Egill takes three, and
strokes their feathers smooth, and fits one to his string, and

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IHTBODUOTIOK. XXIZ

dog, and never sonSed the fresh breeze in the forest
of Snowdon, nor saved his master's child from r&Teoiag
wolf. This, too, is a primseval story, told with many
variations. Sometimes the foe is a wolf, sometimes a
bear, sometimeB a snake. It, too, came from the East.

BhootB and hita the apple in the middle, so that the arrow took
•long with it half the &|>ple, aod then fell to the ground. This
nM3tei^4hot has long beea talked about, and the king made
much of him, luod he was the most famous of men. Kow,
King N idling asked EgiW why he took oat three arrows, when
it was settled that one only was to be shot with. Then E^l
answered, 'Lord,' Bud he, 'I will not lie to yon; had I
stricken the lad with diat one arrow, then I had meant these
two for yon.' But the king took that well from him, and all
thought it was boldly spoken." — Wilkiiux Saga, ch. 27, Ed.
Petisg.

" It is related of him (Pnncher) that a certiun lord, who
wished to obtain a enre trial of his skill, set ap his little son
as a batt, and for a mark a shilling on the boy's cap, com-
manding him to carry off the shilling without the cap with
his arrow. But when the wizard said be could do it,
though he would rather abstain, lest the Devil should decoy
him to destruction : still, being led on by the words of the
chie^ be thrust one arrow through his collar, and, fitting the
other to his crossbow, struck off the coin from the boy's cap
without doing him any harm ; seeing which, when the lord
asked the wizard why he had placed the arrow in bis collar ?
he answered, ' If by the Devil's deceit I bad etain the boy,
when I needs most die, I would have transfixed you suddenly
with the other arrow, that even so I might have avenged
my death.' "—MaOeut Makf.^ P. II., oh. 16.

.yCOOgIc"

XZX IHTBODUCTION.

It is fonnd in the Hitopadesa, Id Filpay's Fables, in
the Arabic original of the Seven Wise Uasters, — that
famous collection of storiea which illostrate & Biap-
dame's c&lumnj and hate — and in many mediseTal
versions of those originals. Thence it passed into the
Latin Cfesta Bomanorum, where, as well as in the Old
English version published b; Sir Frederick Madden, it
may be read as a service rendered by a iatthful honnd
against a snake; This, too, like Tell's master-shot, is
as the lightning which shineth over the whole heaven
at once, and can be clfumed by no one tribe of the
Aryan race, to the exclusion of the rest. " The Dog of
Montargis " is in like manner mythic, though perhaps
not so widely spread. It first occurs in France, as told
of Sybilla, a fabulous wife of Charlemagne ; but it is at
any rate as old as the time of Plutarch, who relates it
as an anecdote of brute sagacity in the days of Fyrrhus.
There can be no doubt, then, with regard to the
question of the origin of these tales, that they were
common in germ at least to the Aryan tribes before
their migration. We find traces of them in the tradi-
tions of the Eastern Aryans, and we find them de-
veloped in a hundred forms and shapes in every one of
the nations into which the Western Aryans have shaped
themselves in the course of ages. We are led, there-
fore, irresistibly to the conclusion, that these traditionB
are as mnch a portion of the common inheritance of our
ancestors, ae their language unquestionably is ; and that
they form, along with that language, a double chain of

.yCOOgIC

INTBODCCTION. XXX

evidence, which prOTes their Eastern origin. If we are
to seek for a simile, or an analogy, as to the relative
poeitioDB of these tales and traditions, and to the mutual
resemblanceB which exist between them as the several
bnuches of our race have developed them from the com-
mon stock, we may find it in one which will come home
to every reader as he looks round the domestic hearth,
if he should be so happy as to have one. The; are
like as sisters of one house are like. They have what
wodld be called a strong family likeness ; but besides
this likeness, which they owe to father or mother, as
the case may be, they have each their peculiarities of
form, and eye, and face, and still more, their differences of
intellect and mind. This may be dark, that fair ; this
may have gray eyes, that black ; this may be open and
gracefiil, that reserved and close ; this you may love,
that yon can take no interest in. One may be bash-
ful, anotherwinning,athird worth knowing and yet hard
to know. They are so like and so unlike. At first it
may be, as an old English writer beautifully expresses
it, " their father hath writ them as his own little story,"
but as they grow up they throw off the copy, educate
themselves for good or ill, and finally assimie new forms
of feeling and feature imder an original development of
their own.

And now, in the second pUce, for that particular
branch of the Aryan race, in which this peculiar de-
velopment of the common tradition has arisen, which
we are to consider as " Norse Popular Tales."

.yCOOgIC

ZXXU INTRODnCTlON.

Whatever disputes may have existed as to the
mythology of other braachee of the TeutoBic subdivi-
sion of the Aryan race — whatever diactuaions may have
arisen as to the position of this or that divinity among
the Franks, the Anglo-Saxons, or the Goths — about
the Norsemen there can be no dispute or doubt. From
a variety of circumstances, but two before all the rest —
the one their settlement in Iceland, which preserved
their language and its literary treasures incorrupt ; the
other their late conversion to Christianity — their cos-
mogony and mythology stands before us in full flower,
and we have not, as elsewhere, to pick up uid piece
together the wretched fragments of a faith, the articles
of which itB own priests had forgotten to commit to
writing, and which those of another creed had dashed to
pieces and destroyed, wherever their zealous hands could
reach. In the two Eddas therefore, in the early Sagas, in
Saxo's stilted Latin, which barely conceals the popular
songs and legends from which the historian drew hiB
materials, we are enabled to form a perfect conception
of the creed of the heathen Norsemen. We are enabled
-to trace, as has been traced by the same hand in an-
other place,* the natural and rational development
of that creed from a simple worship of nature and her
powers, first to monotheism, and then to a polytheistic
system. The tertiary system of Polytheism is the soil
out of which the mythology of the Eddas sprang, though

* Oxford Essays for 1858. " The Norsemen in Icelaod."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IHTBODnCnOK. XXZUl

throngh it each of the oldei formatioDB irropa out in
huge masses which admit of no mistake as to its
origin. In the Eddae the natural powere have been
partly subdued, partly thrust; on one side, for a time, by
Odin and the Mm, by the Great Father and his children,
by One Supreme and twelve subordinate gods, who rule
for an appointed time, and over whom hangs an impend-
ing &te, which imparte a charm of melancholy to this
creed, which has clung to the race who once believed
in it long after the creed itself has vanished before
the light of Christianity, According to this creed, the
^sir and Odin had their abode in Asgard, a lofty hill
in the centre of the habitable earth, in the midst of
Midgard, that middle earth which we hear of in early
English poetry, the abode of gods and men. Round
that earth, which was fenced in against the attacks
of ancient and inveterate foes by a natural fortification
of hills, flowed the great sea in a ring, and beyond
that sea was Utgard, the outlying world, the abode
of Frost Giants, and (fonsters, those old natural powers
who had been dispossessed by Odin and the Mbu
when the new order of the universe arose, and between
whom and the new gods a feud as inveterate as
that cherished by the Titans agiunst Jupiter was neces-
sarily kept alive. It is true indeed that this feud was
broken by intervals of truce during which the ^sir and
the Giants visit each other, and appear on more or less
fiiendly terms, bat the true relation between them was
war ; pretty much as the Norseman was at war with all

U.g.VK.yC00glc

XIXIT INTKODUOTION.

the rest of the world. Xor was this struggle between
two riyal races or powers confined to the gods in Asgard
\ alone. Just ae their ancient foes were the Giants of
, Frost and Snow, so between the race of men and the
' race of Trolls was there a perpetual feud. As the gods
were men magnified and exaggerated, so were the
Trolls diminished Frost Giants ; far superior to man in
strength Mid stature, but ioferior to man in wit and in-
vention. Like the Frost Giants, they inhabit the
rough and ru^ed places of the earth, and, historically
speaking, in all probability represent the old aboriginal
races who retired into the raountainous fastnesses of the
land, and whose strength was exaggerated, because the
intercourse between the races was small. In almost
every respect they stand in the same relations to men
as the Frost Giants stand to the Gods.

There is nothing, perhaps, which so much charac-
terises a true, as compared with a false religion, thap
the restlessness of the one against the quiet dignity and
majesty of the other. Under the Christian dispensation,
oiu- blessed Lord, his awful sacrifice once performed, "as-
cended up on high, having " led captivity captive," and
expects the hour that shall make his foes "his footstool;"
but false gods, Jupiter, Vishnu, Odin, Thor, must con-
stantly keup themselves, as it were, before the eyes of men,
lest they should lose respect. Such gods being invari-
ably what the philosophers call subjective, that is to say,
having no existence except in the minds of those who
believe in them ; having been created by man in his

.yCOOgIC

IHTBODOCTION. X.XXV

own image, with his own desires and pasnons, stand in
constant seed-of being recreated. They change as the
habits and temper of the race which adores them alter ;
they are ever bound to do something fresh, lest man
shonld forget them and new diTioities usurp their place.
Hence came endless avatars in Hindoo mythology, repro-
ducing all the dreamy monstrosities of that |>asBiTe Indian
mind. Hence came Jove's adventures, tinged with all the
lust and guile which the wickedness of the natural roan
planted on a hot-bed of iniquity is capable of conceiv-
ing. Hence bloody Moloch, and the foul abominations
of Chemosh and Milcom. Hence, too, Odin's countlese
adventures, his journeys into all parts of the world, his
constant trials of wit and strength with his fmcient foes
the Frost Giants, his hair-breadth escapes. Hence
Tbor's labours and toils, hia passages beyond the sea,
girt with his strength-belt, wearing his iron gloves,
and grasping his hammer which eplit the skulls of so
many of the Giant's kith and kin. In the Norse gods,
then, we see the Norseman himself, sublimed and ele-
vated beyond man's nature, but bearing about with him
all his bravery and endurance, all his dash and spirit of
adventure, all his fortitude and resolution to struggle
agfunst a certainty of doom which, sooner or later, must
overtake him on that dread day, the " twilight of the
gods," when the wolf was to break loose, when the great
snake that lay coiled round the world should lash him-
self into' wrath, and the whole race of the ^sirs
and their antagonists were to perish in internecine stnfe.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

XZXVl ISTBODOCTION.

Such were the gods on whom the Norsemen be-
lieved,^— exaggeratioDB of himself, of all his good and all
his bad qualities. Their might and their adventures,
their domestic quarrels and certain doom, were sung in
venerable lays, now collected in what we call the Elder, or
Poetic Edda; simple majestic songs, whose mellow
accents go straight to the heart through the ear, and
whose simple severity never suffers us to mistake their
meaning. Bat, besides these gods, there were heroes of
the race whose fame and glory were in every man's
memory, and whose mighty deeds were in every min-
strel's mouth. Helgi, Sinfjotli, Sigurdr, Brynhildr, Gnd-
run; champions and shield-maidens, henchmen and corse-
chosers, now dead tmd gone, who sat round Odin's board
in Valhalla. Women whose beauty, woes, and sufferings
were beyond those of all women ; men whose prowess
bad never found an equal Between these, love and hate ;
all that can foster passion or beget revenge. HI assorted
marriages ; the right man to the wrong woman, and the
wrong man to the right woman ; envyings, jealousies,
hatred, murders, all the works of the natural man, combine
together to form that wondrous story which begins with
a ciurse — the curse of ill-gotten gold ; — and ends with a
curse, a widow's curse, which drags down all on whom
it falls, and even her own flesh and blood, to swifl
destruction. Such is a sketch of the wondrons Niflung
Tale, the far older, simpler, and grander ori^nal of that
Nibelungen Need of the thirteenth century, a tale which
begins with the slaughter of Fa&iir by Sigurdr, and enda

U.g.VK.yC00glc

INTKODUCTION. XXXVll

with Hermanaric, " that fierce faith-breaker," as the
Anglo-Saxon minstrel calls him, when he is describing, in
rapid toaches, the mythic glories of the Teutonic race.
Such were the gods, and such the heroes of the
Xorwrnan ; who, like his own gods, went smiling to death
under the weight of an inevitable destiny. But that fate
never fell on their gods. Before this subjective mytho-
lo^cal dream of the Norsemen could be fulfilled, the
religioufi mist in which they walked was scattered by
the sunbeams of Christianity, A new state and condi-
tion of society arose, and the creed which had satisfied
a race of heathen warriors, who externally were at
war with all the world, became in time an object of
horror and aversion to the converted Christian. This
is not the place to describe the long struggle between
the new and the old faith in the Korth ; how kings
and queens became the foster-fathem and nursing-
mothers of the Church ; how the great chiefs, each a
little king in himself, scorned and derided the whole
scheme as altogether weak and efleminate ; how the
bulk of the people were sullen and suspicious, and
often broke out into heathen mutiny ; how kings rose
and kings fell, just as they took one or the other side ;
and how, finally, after a contest which had lasted alto-
gether more than three centuries, Denmark, Norway,
Iceland, and Sweden — we ran them over in the order
of conversion — became faithful to Christianity, as
preached by the missionaries of the Churcli of Home.
One fact, however, we must insist on, which might be

.yCOOgIC

xxznii ntTRODncnoN.

mfened, iodeed, boUi &om the nature of the struggle
itself, and the character of Kome ; and that \b, that
thronghoat there was sometluDg in the process of ccoi-
Tersion of the nature of a compromise — of what we may
call the great principle of " give and take." In all
Christian churches, indeed, and in none so much as the
Church of Rome, nothing is so austere, so eleTating, and
so ^«Qd, as the uncompromising tone in which the great
dogmas of the Faith are enunciated and proclaimed.
Nothing is more magnificent, in short, than the theory
of Christianity ; but nothing is more mean and miser-
able than the time-serviDg way in which those dogmas
are dragged down to the dull level of daily life, and
that sublime theory reduced to ordinary practice. At
Rome, it was true, the Pope could congratulate the
faithful that whole nations in the barbarous and frozen
North had been added to the true fold, and that Odin's
grim champions now universally believed in the gospel
of peace and love. It is so easy to dispose of a doubt-
ful struggle in a single sentence, and so tempting to be-
lieve it when once written. But in the North, the state
of things, and the manner of proceeding, were entu^ly
difTerent. There the dogma was proclaimed, indeed ;
but the manner of preaching it was not in that mild
spirit with which tho Saviour rebuked the disciple when
he said, " Put up again thy sword into his place : for
ali they that take the sword shall perish with the
aword," There the sword was used to bring converts
to the font, and the baptism was often one rather of

.yCOOgIC

INTBODUCTIOM. ZXXIX

fire than of water. There the new couverta perpe-
tually relapsed, chased away the miseioDaries and th«
kings who sheltered them, and only yielded at last to
the overwhelming weight of Christian opinion in the
Western world. St. Olof, kiag and martyr, martyred
in pitched battle by his mutinoaB allodial freemen, be-
cause he tried to drive rather than to lead them to the
cross ; and another Olof, greater than he, Olof Trygg-
vasoQ, who fell in battle against tlie heathen Swedes,
were men of blood rather than peace ; but to them the
introduction of the new Mth into Norway ia munly
owing. So also Charlemagne, at an earUer period, had
dealt with the Saxons at the Main Bridge, when his
ultimatum was, " Christianity or death." So alao the
first missionary to Iceland — who met, indeed, with a
sorry reception — was followed about by a stout cham-
pion named Thangbrand, who, whenever there was
what we should cow call a missionary meeting, chal-
lenged any tmpugner of the new doctrines to mortal
combat on the spot. No wonder that, after having
killed several opponents in the little tour which he made,
with his missionary friend through the island, it became
too hot to hold him, and he, and the missionary, and
the new creed, were forced to take ship and mil back to
Norway.

" Precept upon precept, line upon line, here a little
and there a little," was the motto of Rome in her deal-
ings with the heathen Norsemen, and if she suited her-
self at Erst rather to their habits and temper than to

.yCOOgIC

II INTBODCCTIOS.

those of more enlightened nationB, she had an excuse in
St. Paal'e maxim of making herself " all things to all
men." Thus, when a second attempt to ChriBtianize
Iceland proved more successfiil — for in the meantime,
King Olof Tryggrason, a zealous Christian, had seized
as hostages all the Icelanders of family and fame who
happened to he in Norway, and thus worked on the
feelings of the chiefs of those families at home, who in
their turn bribed t^e lawman who presided over the
Great Assembly to pronomice in favour of the new
Fmth — even then the adherents of the old religion
were allowed to perform its rites in secret, and two old
heathen practices only were expressly prohibited, tJbe
exposure of infants and the eating of horseflesh, for
horses were sacred animals, and the heathen ate their
flesh alter they had been solemnly sacrificed to the god&
As a matter of fact, it is far easier to change a form of
religion than to extirpate a faith. The first indeed ia
no easy matter, as those students of history well know,
who are acquainted with the tenacity with which a large
proportion of the English nation clang to the Church
of Rome, long after the State had declared for tlie
Reformation. But to change the faith of a whole
nation in block and bulk on the instant, was a thing
contrary to tlie ordinary working of Providence, and
unknown even in the days of miracles, though the
days of miracles had long ceased when Rome advanced
against the North. There it was more politic to raise
a cross in the grove where the Sacred Tree had once

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IKTBODTJOTION. xU

stood, and to poiot to the sacred embleio which had
supplanted the old object of natioQal adoration, when
the populace came at certaia seaeoos with BODge and
danceg to perform their heathen rites. Near the cross
soon rose a church ; and both were ^rt by a cemetery,
the soil of which was doubly sacred as a heathen fane and
a ChriHtian sanctnary, and where alone the bodies of the
&ithiu] could repose in peace. But the songs and
dances, and processions in the church-yard round the
(70BS, continued long alter Christianity had become
dominant. So also the worship of wells and springs
woB christiauised when it was found impossible to pre-
vent it. Great churches arose over or near them, as
at Walsingham, where an abbey, the holiest place in
England, after the shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury,
threw its majestic shade over the heathen wishing-well,
and the worshippers of Odin and the Nomir were gradu-
ally converted into votaries of the Virgin Mary. Such
practices form a subject of constant remonstrance and re-
proof in the treatises and penitential epistles of medieval
divines, and in some few places and churches, even in
England, such ritea are still yearly celebrated.*

So, too, again with the ancient gods. They were cast
down from honour, but not from power. They lost their
genial kindly influence as the protectors of men and the

* See Anecd. and Trad. Camd. Soc. 1839. Pp. 9? fol.
See also the passages from Anglo-Saxon laws Bgainat " well-
waking," which Grimm has collected. D. M. P. 550.

.yCOOgIC

xlii INTEODDOTION.

origin of all things good; but their exiBtencewaatolemted;
they became powerful for ill, and degenerated into malig-
nant demons. Thus the worshippers of Odin had sup-
posed that at cert«n times and rare intervals the good
powers shewed themselves in bodily shape to mortal eye,
passing through the land in divine progress, bringing
blessings in their train, and receiving in return the offer-
ings and homage of their grateful votaries. But theBe were
naturally only exceptional instances ; on ordinary occa-
sions the pious heathen recognized his gods sweeping
through the air in cloud and storm, riding on the winga
of the wind, and speaking in awful accents, as the
tempest howled and roared, and the sea shook his white
mane and crest. Nor did he fail to see them in the dust
and dm of battle, when Odin appeared with his terrible
helm, succouring his own, striking fear into their foes, and
turning the day in many a doubtful fight ; or in the hurry
and uproar of the chase, where the mighty huntsman on
bis swift 8t«ed, seen in glimpses among the trees, took up
the hunt where weary mortals gave it up, outstripped
them all, and brought the noble quarry to the ground.
Looking up to the stars and heaven, they saw the foot-
steps of the gods marked out in the bright path of the
Milky Way ; and in the Bear they hailed the war-
chariot of the warrior's god. The great goddesses, too,
Frigga and Freyja were thoroughly old-fashioned domes-
tic divinities. They help women in their greatest need,
they spin themseiveB, they teach the mfuds to spin, and
punish them if the wool remains upon their spindle.

.yCOOgIC

iNTROoncnoK. xliii

They are kind, and good, and bright, for Holda, Bertha,
are the epithets given to them, And bo, too, this
mythology which, iu its aspect to the Btranger and
the external world, was so ruthless and terrible, when
looked at Irom within and at home, was gonial, and
kindly, and hearty, and affords another proof that men,
in all ages and climes, are not so bad as they seem ;
that after all, peace and not war is the proper state for
man, and that a nation may make war on others and
exist ; bat that unless it has peace within, and industry
at home, it mnst perish from the face of the earth. But
when Christianity came the whole character oFthis goodly
array of divinities was soured and spoilt. Instead of the
stately procession of the God, which the intensely sen-
suous eye of man in that early time connected with all
the phenomena of nature, the people were led to believe
in a ghastly grisly band of ghosts, who followed an
infernal warrior or huntsman in hideous tumult through
the midnight air. No doubt, as Grimm rightly remarks,*
the heathen had fondly fancied that the spirits of thosp
who bad gone to Odin followed him in his triumphant
prepress either visibly or invisibly ; that they rode with
him m the whirlwind, just as they followed him to battle,
and feasted with him in Valhalla ; but now the Chris-
tian belief, when it had degraded the mighty god into a
demon huntsman, who pursued his nightly round in chase
of human souls, saw in the train of the infernal master

• D. M., p. 900. Wutendes beer.

.yCOOgIC

zliy INTRODDCnON.

of the hunt only the spectres of suicides, drunkards, and
rufiSans ; and, with all the uncharitableness of a dog-
matic faiUi, the spirits of chUdren who died unbaptized,
whose hard fate had thrown them into such evil company.
This was the way in which that wide-spread superstition
arose, which sees in the phantoms of the clouds the shapes
of the Wild Huntsman and his accursed crew, and bears,
in spring and autumn nights, when sea-fowl take the
wing to fly either south or north, the strange accents
and micouth yelb with which the chase is pressed on in
upper air. Thus, in Sweden it is still Odin who passes
by ; in Denmark it is King Waldemar's Hunt ; in Nor-
way it is Aaskereida, that is, Aagard^s Car; in Germany
it is Wode, Woden, or Hackelberend,or Dieterich of Bern;
in France it is Hellequin, or King Hugo, or Charles the
Fifth, or, dropping a name altogether, it is Le Grand
VeneuT who ranges at night through the Forest of
Fontainebleau. Nor was England without her Wild
Huntsman and his ghastly following. Gervase of Til-
hury, in the twelfth century, could tell it of King Arthur,
round whose mighty name the superstition settled itself,
for he had heard from the foresters how, " on alternate
days, about the full of the moon, one day at noon, the
next at midnight when the moon shone bright, a mighty
train of hunters on horses was seen, with haying hounds
and blast of horns ; and when those hunters were asked
of whose company and household they were, they re-
plied, ' of Arthur's.' " We hear of him again in " the
Complaynt of Scotland," that curious composition attri-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

INTBODDCTION. xlv

buted by some to Sir David Lyndsay of the Mount,
and of Gilmerton in East Lotliian, pp. 97, 98, where
he says —

" Arlfanr knycht, he raid on nycht.
With gyldin spar and candil lycht"
Nor should we forget, when consideriDg this legend,
that atory of Heme the Hunter, who,
" Sometime a keeper here in Wiodsor Forest,
Doth all the winter time, at still midniglit,
Walk rannd about an oak, with great ragg'd horns ;
And there he blaets the trees, and takes the cattle,
Aiid makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
In a most hideous and dreadiul manner,"*
And even yet, in various parts of England, the atory of
some great man, generally a member of one of the
county families, who drives about the country at night,
ie common. Thus, in Warwickshire, it is the " One.
handed Bonghton," who drives about in his coach and
six, and makes the benighted traveller hold gates open
for bim ; or it is " Lady Shipwith," who passes through
the country at night in the same manner. This sub-
ject might be pureued to much greater length, for po-
pular tradition is full of such stories ; but enough has
been said to show how the awful presence of a glorious
God can be converted into a gloomy superstition ; and,
at the same time, bow the majesty of the old beUef
strives to rescue itself by clinging, in the popular con-
Bcionsness, to some king or hero, as Arthur or Walde-
mar, or, ffuling that, to some squire's family, as Hackel-
• Merry Wives of Windsor, act. iv. sc. 4.

Gooi^lc

xlvi INTEODDCnON.

berend, or the " oae-handed Boughton," or even to the
Keeper Heme.

OdiD and tbe Ms\t then were dispossessed and de-
graded by our Saviour and his Apostles, just as they had
of old thrown oat the Frost Giants, and the two are
mingled together, in medieval Norse tradition, as Trolls
and Giants, hostile alike to ChriBtianity and man.
Christianity had taken poBsession indeed, but it was
beyond her power to kill. To this half-result the swift
corruption of the Church of Rome lent no small aid.
Her doctrines, as taught by Augustine and Boniface,
by Anschar and Sigfrid, were comparatively mild and
pure ; but she had scarce swallowed the heathendom
of the North, much in the same way as the Wolf was
to swallow Odin at the " Twilight of the Gods," than
she fell into a deadly lethargy of foith, which put it out
of ber power to digest her meal. Gregory the Seventh,
elected pope in 1073, tore the clergy from the ties
of domestic life with a grasp that wounded every fibre
of natural afiection, and made it bleed to the very
root. With the celibacy of the clergy he established
the hierarchy of the church, hut her labours as a mis-
sionary church were over. Henceforth she worked not
by missionaries and apostles, but by crusades and
bulls. Now she raised mighty armaments to recover
the barren soil of the Holy Sepulchre, or to annihilate
heretic Albigenses. Now she established great orders,
Templais and Hospitallers, whose pride, and luxury,
and pomp, brought swift destruction on one at least
of those fraternities. Now she became feudal, — she

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IHTRODUCTION. xlvii

owned luid instead of hearts, oad forgot that the true
patnmooy of St. Peter was the souls of men. No
wonder that, with the barbarism of the times, she soon
fulfilled the Apostle's words, " She that liveth in luxury
IB dead while she liveth," and became filled with idle
Huperstitions aud Tain beliefe. No wonder, then, that
Instead of completing her conquest over the heathen,
and carryiDg out their conversioii, she became half
heathen herself ^ that Bhe adopted the tales and traditions
of the old mythology, which she had never been able to
extirpate, and related them of our Lord and his
Apostles. No wonder, then that, having abandoned her
mission of being the first power of intelligence on earth,
she fell like Lucifer when the mist of medieval feudalism
rolled away, and the light of learning and education re-
turned— fell before the indignation of enlightened men,
woridng upon popular opinion. Since which day,
though she has changed her plans and remodelled her
superstitions to suit the times, she has never regained
the supremacy which, if she had been wise in a true
sense, she seemed destined to hold for ever.

The preceding observattona will have given a suf-
ficient account of the mythology of the Norsemen, and
of the way in which it fell. They came from the East,
and brought that common stock of tradition with them.
Settled in the Scandinavian peninsula, they developed
themselves through heathenism, Romanism, and Luther-
anism, in a locally little exposed to foreign influence,
no that even now the Daleman in Norway or Sweden
may be reckoned among the most primitive exiunples
Gooi^lc

Xlviii INTBODCCTIOH.

left of peasant life. We should expect, then, that these
Popular Tales, which, for the sake of those ignorant in
such matters, it may be remarked, had never been col-
lected or reduced to writing till within the last few years,
would present a ^thfiil picture of the natural conscious-
ness, or, perhaps, to speak more correctly, of that half
consciousness out of which the heart of any people speaks
in its abmidance. We should expect to find heathen
gods in Christian dresses, and thus to see a proof of our
assertion above, that a nation more easily changes the
form than the essence of its faith, and clings with a tough-
ness which endures for centuries to what it has once
learned to believe.

In all mythologies, the trait of all others which most
commonly occurs, is that of the descent of the Gods to
earth, where, in bumau form, they mix among mortals,
and occupy themselves with their affairs, either out of a
spirit of adventure, or to try the hearts of men. Such
a conception is shocking to the Christian notion of the
omnipotence and omnipresence of God, but we queetion
if there be not times when the most pious and perfect
Christian may not find comfort and relief from a fallacy
which was a matter of faith in less enlightttned creeds,
and over wliich the apostle, wriliDg to the Hebrews,
throws the sanction of his authority, so lar aa angels are
concerned.* Classical mythology is full of such stories.
These wanderings of the' (rods are mentioned in the

* Heb. xiiL 1 : " Let brotherly love conlione. Be oot
forgetful to entartEiiu strangers : for thereby some have en-
terttuned augels unawares."

L)in;« ...Google

IHTBODQCTION. xli:i

Odyssey, and the sanctity of the rites of hospitality, and
the dread of tumiog a stranger from Uie door, took its
origin from a fear lest the wayfaring man should be a
Divinity in disguise. According to the Greek story, Orion
offed his birth to the fact that the childless Hyrieus,
his repnted father, had once received unawares Zens,
Poseidon, and Hermes, or, to call them by their Latin
names, Jnpiter, Neptune, and Mercury. In the beau-
tiful story of Philemon and Baucis, Jupiter and Mercury
reward the aged couple who had so hospitably received
them by warning them of the approaching deluge. The
fables of Pkedrus and ^sop represent Mercury' and
Demeteraswanderingand enjoying the hospitality of men.
In India it is Brahm and Vishnu who generally wander.
Iq the Edda, Odin, Loki, and Ecenir thus wander about,
or Thorr, Tbialfi, and Loki. Sometimes Odin appears
alone as a horseman, who turns in at night to the
smith's house and gels him to shoe his horse, — a legend
which reminds us at once of the Master-smith.* Some-
times it ia Thorr with his great hammer who wanders
thos alone.

Now, let us turn from heathen to Christian times,
and look at some of these old legends of wandering
gods in a new Arem. Throughout die middle age, it is
our blessed Lord and St. Peter that thus wander, and

* One of Odin's names, when on thene adventures, vraa '
Qangradr, or Qangleri. Both mean " the Ganger, or way-
fiircr." We have the latter epilbet in the " Qangrd carle,"
and " Gangret loon," of the early Scotch ballads.
c2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

1 IMTBODOCTIOH.

here we see that hulf-digested heathendom to which we
have altitded. Those who may be shocked at such
tales ID this collection as " the Ma«ter-Smith " and
" Giertrude's Bird," must just remember that these are
almost purely heathen traditions, in which the names
alone are Christian ; and if it be any consolation to any
to know the fact, we may ae well state at once that
this adaptation of new names to old beliefs is not pecu-
liar to the Norsemen, bnt is found in all the popular
tales of Europe. Gennany was full of them, and them
St. Peter often appears in a snappish ludicrous guise,
which reminds the reader versed in Norse mythology
with the tricks and pranks of the shifty Loki. In the
Norse tales be thoroughly preserves his saintly character.
Nor was it only gods that walked among men. In
the Norse mythology, Frigga, Odin'e wife, who knew
beforehand all that was to happen, and Freyja, the
goddess of love and plenty, were prominent figures, and
often trode the earth j the three Noms or Fates, who
sway the wierds of men, and spin their destinies at
Mimirs' well of knowledge, were awful venerable powers,
to whom the heathen world looked up with love and
adoration and awe. To that love and adoration and awe,
throughout the Middle Age, one woman, transfigured into
a divine shape, succeeded by a sort of natural right, and
round the Virgin Mary's blessed head a halo of lovely
tales of divine help, beams with soft radiance as a crovm
bequeathed to her by the ancient goddesses. She appears
as divine mother, spinner, and helpful virgin (vierge

.yCOOgIC

INTBODUOTION. 11

secoarable). Flowers and plants bear her name. In
England one of our commoneat and prettiest insecte
is BtiU called after her, but which belonged to Freyja, the
heathen " Lad;," long before the western nations had
learned to adore the name of the mother of Jesus.

The reader of these Tales will meet, in that of " the
LaBBie and her Godmother," No. sxiT., with the Virgin
Mary in a truly mythic character, as the majestic guar-
dian of snn, moon, and stars, combined with that of a
helpful, kindly woman, who, while she knows how to
punish a fault, knows also how to reconcile and forgive.

Ag^n, of all beliefs, that in which mun has, at all
times of his history, been most prone to stst faith, is that
of a golden age of peace and plenty, which had passed
away, but which might be expected to return. Such a
period was looked for when Augustus closed the temple
of Jeuius, and peace, though perhaps not plenty, reigned
over what the proud Koman called the habitable world.
Soch a period the early Christian expected when the
Saviour was bom, in the reign of that very Augustus ;
and such a period some, whose thoughts are more set
on earth than heaven, have hoped for ever since, with a
hope which, though deferred for eighteen centuries, has
not made tiieir hearts sick. Such a period of peace and
plenty, such a golden ^e, the Norseman could tell of in
his mythic Frodi's reign, when gold, or FrodCa meal, as
it was called, was so plentiful that golden armlets lay
untouched &om year's end to year's end on the king's
highway, and the fields bore crops unsown. Here, in

.yCOOgIC

lii INTRODtlCTION.

England, the Anglo-Saxon Bede* knew how to tell the
same story of King Edwin, the Northumbrian king,
and when Alfred came to be mythic, the same legend
was pasBed on from Edwin to the West Saxon monarch.
The remembrance of " the bountiful Frodi " echoed in
the songs of German poets long after the story which
made him so bountiful had been forgotten ; but the
Norse Skalds could tell not only the story of Frodi's
wealth and bounty, hut also of his downfall and ruin.
In Frodi's house were two maidens of that old giant race,
Penja and Menja. These daughters of the giant he had
bought as slaves, and he made them grind his quein or
hand-mill, Grotti, ont of which he used to grind peace
and gold. Even in that golden age one sees there were
Blaves, and Frodi, however bountiful to his thanes and
people, was a bard task-master to his giant hand-
maidens. He kept them to the mill, nor gave them
longer rest than the cuckoo's note lasted, or they could
sing a song. But that quern was such that it gronnd
anythmg that the grinder chose, though until then it
had ground nottung but gold and peace. So Uie
mfudens ground and ground, and one sang their
piteous tale in a strain worthy of ^schylus as t^e
other rested — they prayed for rest and pity, but Frodi
was deaf. Then they turned in giant mood, and
ground no longer peace and plenty, but fire and
war. Then the quern went fast and furious, and

* HiflL ii. 16.

.yCOOgIC

IHTBODCCTION. liii

that very night came Mysing the Sea-rover, and elew
Frodi and aU his men, and carried off the qnem ; and
HO Frodi's peace ended. The maidens the sea-rover
took with him, and when be got on the high seas he
bade them grind salt So they ground ; and at mid-
night they asked if he had not salt enough, bat he bade
them still grind on. So they ground till the ship
was fall and sank, Mysing, maids, and mill, and all,
and that's why the sea is salt* Perhaps of all the
tales in this Tolome, none could be selected as better
proving the toaghneas of a traditional belief than
No. n., which tells " Why tihe Sea is Salt."

The notion of the Arch-enemy of God and Man, of
a fallen angel, to whom power was permitted at cer-
tain times for an all- wise purpose by the Great Ruler
of the universe, was as foreign to the heathendom of
oar ancestors as his name was outlandish and strange
to their tongue. This notion Christianity brought with
it &om the East ; and though it is a plant which has
struck deep roots, grown distorted and awry, and borne
a bitter crop of superstition, it required all the authority
of the Church to prepare the soil at first for its reception.
To the notion of good necessarily follows that of evil.
The Eastern mind, with its Ormuzd and Ahriman, is
fall of such dualism, and &om that hom*, when a more
than mortal eye saw Satan filling like lightning from
heaven,t the kingdom of darkness, the abode of Satan

* Snor. Ed. Skaldek. cfa. 43. f St. Luke, z. 18.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Ut intboddotion.

and his bad Bpirita, yraa established in direct opposi-
tion to the kingdom of the Saviour and his angels. The
North bad its own notion on thia point. Its mythology
was not without its own dark powers ; but though tbey
too were ejected and dispossessed, they, according to
that mythology, had rights of their own. To them
belonged all the universe that had not been seized and
reclaimed by the younger race of Odin and Mbit ; and
though this upstart dynasty, as the Frost Giants in
j^Bchytean phrase would have called it, well knew that
Hel, one of this giant progeny, was fated to do them all
mischief, and to outlive them, they took her and made
her queen of Kiflheim, and mistress over nine worlds.
There, in a bitterly cold place, she received the souls of
all who died of sickness or old age ; care was her bed,
hunger her dish, starvation her knife. Her walls were
hig^ and strong, and her bolts and bars huge ; " Half
blue was her skin, and half the colour of human flesh. A
goddess easy to know, and in all things very stem and
grim." * But though severe, she was not an evil spirit.
She only received those who died as no Norseman
wished to die. For those who fell on the gory battle-
field, or sank beneath the waves, Valhalla was prepared,
and eudless mirth and bliss with Odin. Those went to
Hel who were rather unfortunate than wicked, who died
before they could be killed. But when Christianity
came in and ejected Odin and his crew of false divinities,

" Saor. Edda. ch. 34, Eugl Traosl.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IHTKODDCnON. Iv

declaring them to be lying gods and demonB, then
Hel fell with the rest ; but fulfilling her fate, oatlived
them. From a person she became a place, and all the
Northern nations, from the Goth to the Noraeman, agreed
in believing Hell to be the abode of the devil and bis
wicked Eipirits, the place prepared from the beginning for
the everlasting torments of the damned. One curious fact
connected with this explaDation of Hell's origin will not
escape the reader's attention. The Christian notion of
Hell is that of a place of heat, for in the East, whence
Christianity came, beat is often an intolerable torment,
and cold, on the other hand, everything that is pleasant
and deligbtfiiL But to the dweller in the North, heat
brings with it sensations of joy and comfort, and life
without fire has a dreary outlook ; so their Hel ruled in
a cold rei^ou over those who were cowards by implica-
tion, while the mead-cup went ronad, and huge logs
blazed and crackled in Valhalla, for the brave and beauti-
fid who bad dared to die on the field of battle. But
under Christianity the extremes of heat and cold have
met, and Hel, the cold uncomfortable goddess, is now
our Hell, where flames and fire abound, and where the
devils abide in everlasting flame.

Still, popular tradition is toogh, and even after cen-
turies of Christian teaching, the Norse peasant, in his
popular tales, can still tell of Hell as a place where fire-
wood is wanted at Christmas, and over which a certain
air of comfort breathes, though, as in the goddess Hel's
halls, meat is scarce. The following passage &om

.yCOOgIC

Jvi INTEODDCTION.

" Why the Sea is Salt," No. ii., will sufficiently prove
this: —

" Well, here is the flitch," said the rich brother, " and
nov go etrught to Hell."

" What I have given m; word to do, I mast stick to,"
B(ud the other ; so he took the flitch and set ofl*. He valked
the whole daf, and at dusk he came to a place where be saw
a very blight light.

" Maybe this is the place," said the man to himselil So
he tnrned aside, and the first thing he saw was an old, old
man, with a long white beard, who stood in an outhouse,
hewing wood for the GhnBtmas fire.

" Good even," said the man with the flitch.

" The same to you ; whither are yon going so late," said
the man.

" Oh 1 I'm going to Hell, if I only knew the right way,"
answered the poor man.

" Well, yoa're not far wrong, for tliis b Hell," sud tb«
old man ; " When yon get inside they will be all for buying
yonr flitch, for meat is scarce in Hell; bat mind you doa't
sell it unless you get the hand-qnem which stands behind the
door for it. When yon come oat, I'll teach yon how to
handle the quern, for it's good to grind almost anything."

This, too, is the proper place to ezplain the coucla-
uOD of that intensely heathen tale, " the Master Smith,"
No. XIV. We have already seen how the Saviour and
St. Peter supply, in its be^nning, the place of Odin
and some other heathen god. But when the Smith
sets out with the feeling that he has done a silly Uiing
in quarrelliDg with the Devil, having aheady loErti his
hope of heaven, this tale assumes a still more heathen

.yCOOgIC

IHTEODCCTION. Ivii

shape. According to the old notion, those who were
not Odin's giiests went either to Thor'e house, who had
all the thralls, or to Freyja, who even claimed a third
part of the slain on every battle-field with Odin, or to
Hel, the cold comfortlesa goddess already mentioned, who
was still no tonnentor, though she ruled over nine worlds,
and though her walb were high, and her bolts and bars
huge ; traits which come out in " the Master-Smith,"
No. irv,, when the Devil, who here assumes Hel's place,
orders the watch to go back &ad lock up all the nine
locks on tha gates of Ilell — a lock for each of the god-
desses nine worlds — and to put a padlock on besides.
In the twilight between heathendom and Christianity,
in that half Christian half heathen conscionsnesa, which
this tale reveab, heaven is the preferable abode, as Val-
halla was of yore, but rather than be without a bouse
to one's head after death. Hell was not to be despised ;
though, having behaved ill to the ruler of one, and
actually quarrelled with the master of the other, the
Smith was naturally anxious on the matter. This notion
of different abodes in another world, not necessarily
places of tonnent, comes out too in " Not a Pin to
choose between them," No. xxi., where Peter, the second
hushaud of the silly Goody, goes about begging from
house to house in Paradise.

For the rest, whenever the Devil appears in these

tales, it is not at all as the Arch-enemy, as the subtle

spirit of the Christian's faith, but rather as one of the

old Griants, sapematural and hostile indeed to man, but

d

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Iviii INTBODUCTIOS.

umple and easily deceived by s cunning reprobate, whose
superior intelligence he learns to dread, for whom be
feels himself no match, and whom, finally, he will receive
in Hell at no price. We shall have to notice some other
characteristice of this race of i^antfi a little further on,
bnt certainly no greater proof can be given of the snalt
hold which the Christian Devil has taken of the Morse
mind, than the heathen aspect under which he constantly
appears, and the ludlcroos way in which he is always
outwitted.

The frequent transformation of men into beasts, in
these tales, is another striking feature. This power
the gods of the Norseman possessed in common with
those of all other mythologies. Enropa and her Bull,
Leda and her Swan, will occur at once to the reader's
mind; and to come to closer resemblances, just as
Athene appears in the Odyssey as an eagle or a swal-
low perched on the roof of the ball,* so Odiu fliee off
as a falcon, and Loki takes the form of a horse or bird.
This was only part of that onmipotence which all gods
enjoy. But the belief that men, under certain conditjons,
could also take the shape of animals, is prinueval, and the
traditions of every race can tell of such transformations.
Herodotus had heard how the Neurians, a Slavonic
race, passed for wizards amongst the Scythians and the
Greeks settled round the Black Sea, because each of
them, once in the year, became a wolf for a few days,
and then returned to bis natural shape. Pliny, Pom-
■ Od. iii. 372 ; and zxii. 239.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

rSTBODUCTlON. lix

poniuB Mela, and St Augustin, in his great treatise, De
dvitate Dei, tell the same story, and Virgil, in his
Eclogues, has sung the same belief.* The Latins
called such a man, a tumaJein, — veraipellts, an expression
which exactly agrees with the Icelandic expression for
the same thing, and which is prohably the ti*ue original
of our turncoat. In Fetronius the superstition appears
in its fall shape, and is worth repeating. At the ban-
quet of Trimalchion, Niceros pves the following account
of the tnnishins of Nero's time : —

" It happened that my master was gone to Capua to dia-
pose of Bome second-h&iid goods, I took the opportanity,
aod persaaded our guest to walk with me to the fifth mile-
sbme^ He was a valiant soldier, and a sort of grim water-
drinkiag Flutu. About cock-crow, when the moon wau
Hbiomg as bright as mid-day, we came among the monument.
Uy fnend began addresaiog himself to the stars, but I was
rather in a mood to sing or to count tbem ; and when I turned
to look at him, lo I he had already stripped himself and
laid down his clothes near him. My heart was in my
nostrils, and I stood like a dead man ; but he "drcumminxil
vtB^menta," and on a sudden became a wolf. Do not think
I jest; I would not lie for any man's estate. But to return
to what I was saying. When he became a wolf, be began
howling, and fled into the woods. At first I hardly knew
where I was, and afterwards, when I went to take np his
clothes, tbey were turned into stone. Who then died with
fear bnt I ? Tet I drew my sword, and went catting the air

• Eel. Tiii 97.—

■< His ego seepe Inpum fieri et m condere nlTin
Hsrin TJdi."

.yCOOgIC

Is IMTBODDCTION.

riglit and left, till I reached the villa of 1117 sweetheart I
entered the court-jaH. I almost breathed mj last, the
sweat ran down my neck, my eyes were dim, and I thought
I should never recover myself. My Melissa wondered why
I was out so late, and said to me, — ' Had yon come sooner
you might at least have helped us, for a wolf has entered the
farm and worried all our cattle ; hut he had not the best of
the joke, for all he escaped, for our slave ran a lance through
his neck.' When I heard this, I conld not doubt how it
was, and, e.s it was clear daylight, ran home as fast u a
robbed innkeeper. When I came to the spot where the
clothes had been turned into stone, I could find nothing
except blood. But when I got home, I found Iny friend
the soldier in bed, bleeding at the neck like an ox, and a
doctor dressing his wound. I then knew he was a turn-
skin ; nor would I ever have broke bread with him again ;
No, not if you had killed me."*

A maD who had such a gift or greed was also
called lycanthropua, a man-wolf or wolf-man, wbicb
term the Anglo-Saxons translated literally in Canute's
Laws veremilf, and the early English werewolf. In old
French he was loupgarou, which means the same thing ;
except that garou means man-wolf in iteelf without

• See Grimm's D. M., 1047, fol. ; and for this translation
from t'etrouiuB, a very interesting letter prefixed to Madden's
Ed. of the old English Eomance of " William and the Were-
wolf," 1832, one of the Roxburgh Club Publications. This
letter, which was by the hand of Mr. Herbert of Petworth,
contains all that was known on this subject before Grimm ;
hut when Grimm came he was, compared with all who had
treated the subject, as a sober man amongst drunkards.

.yCoogIc

IHTHODDCnON. Ixi

the Antecedent laup, so that, as Madden observes, the
whole -word is one of those reduplications of which we
have an example in lukewarm. In Brittany lie was
tleizgartm and denvletz, formed respectively from b/eiz
wolf, and den man ; garou is merely a distorted form of
wer or vere, man and loop. In lat<>r French the wortl be-
came waroul, whence the Scotch teroul, vmrl, and worlin*
It was not likely that a belief so widely spread
should not have extended itself to the North ; and the
grave assertions of OlausMagnus in the sixteenth century,
in his Treatise de Gentibus Septentrionalibus, show how
commonthe belief in were-wolves was in Sweden so late att
the time of GustavuB Vasa. In mythical times the Vol-
songa Sagat expressly states of Sigmund vid Sinfiotii
that they became were-wolves, — which, we may remark,
were Odin's sacred beasts, — joat in tfae same way as
Brynhildr and the Valkyries, or corse-clioosers, who
followed the god of battles to the field, and chose
tiie dead for Valhalla when the fight was done, became
swan-maidens, and took the shape of swans. In
either case, the wolfs skin or the swan's feathery
covering was assumed and laid aside at pleasure,
though the V'olundr Qutdr, in the Edda, and the storicK
of " the Fair Melusina," and other medieval swan-
maidens, show that any one who seized that shape while

* ^Mclaixiret in tbe Lais of Marie de France, 1, lT8,8eeniti
to be a corruption of Bleizgarou, as the Norman ganeal is of
guanoolf. See also Jaraieson Diet under warwolf.

f Fornald S«^. i., 130, 131.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Ixii ISTBODUCTION.

thuB laid aside, had power over its wearer. Id later
timeB, when thia old heroic belief degenerated into tbe
notion of sorcer;, it was supposed that a girdle of wolf-
skin thrown over the body, or even a sl&p on the face widi
A wolfskin glove, would transform the pereoii upon whom
the sorcerer practised into the 8h^>e of a ravening wol£
which fled at once to the woods, where he remained is
that shape for a period which varied in popular belief for
nine days, three, seven, or nine years. While in tiiis
state he was especially ravenous after young children,
whom he carried off as the were-wolf carried off Wiltiam
in the old romance, though all were-wolves did not treat
their prey with the same tenderness as that were-wdf
treated William.

But the favourite beast for Norse transfonnations
in historic times, if we may judge from the evidence
afforded by the Sagas, was the bear, the king of all their
beasts, whose strengl^ and sagacity made him an olject
of great respect.*

This old belief, then, might be expected to be found
in these Norse Tales, and accordingly we find men trans-
formed in them into various beasts. Of old these trans-
formations, as we have already stated, were active, if
we may use the expression, as well as pasuve. A man
who possessed the gift, frequently assumed the shape of a
beast at bis own will and pleasure, like the soldier in
Petroniue, Even now in Norway, it is matter of popu-

• See Landnama in many places. Egil'B Sag. Hrolf
Erak. Sag.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TNTRODDCTION. Ixui

lar belief that Fidiib aad Lapps, who from time immemo-
rial have passed for iks most skilful witcheB and wizards
to the world, can at will assume the shape of bears;
aod it is a common thing to say of one of those beasts,
when he gets unusually savage and daring, " that can
be no CbrlBtian bear." On such a bear, in the parish
of Oibden, after he had worried to death more than
sixty horses and six men, it is said that a girdle of bear-
skin, the iniallible mark of a man thus transformed, was
found when be was at last tracked and eiain. The tale
called " Farmer Weathersky," Ko. xxxix. in this collec-
tion, shows that Uie belief of these spontaneous transfor-
mations still exists in popular tradition, where it is easy to
see that Fanner Weathersky is only one of the ancient
gods degraded into a demon's shape. His sudden depar-
ture through the air, horse, sledge, and lad, and all, and bis
answer, "I'm at home, alike north, and south, and east,
aod west;" his name itself, and his distant abode, sur-
rounded with the corpses of the slain, isafficiently
betray the divinity in disguise. His transformation,
too, into a hawk answers exactly to that of Odin when he
flew away from the Frost Giant in the shape of that bird.
Bnt in these tales such transformations are for the most
part passive ; they occur not at the will of the person
transformed, but through sorcery practised on them by
some one else. Thus the White Beat in the beaatiliil
story of " East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon,"
No. XXX7I., is a Prince transformed by his stepmother, just
as it is the stepmother who plays the same part in the

.yCOOgIC

Ixiv INTEODCCTION.

romance of William and the Were-wolt So the horse
in " the Widow's Sod," No. SLin,, ia a Prince over whom
a king has cast that ahape.* So aleo in " Lord Peter,"
No. XLi., which ie the fiill story of what we have only
hitherto known in part as " Pnas iu Boots," the cat is
a princess bewitched by the Troll who had robbed her
of her lands ; so also in " The Seven Foals," No. XLii.,
and " The Twebe Wild Dncks," No. XLVi., the Foak
and the Ducks are Prince over whom that fate has
come by the power of a witch or a Troll, to whom an
unwary promise had been given. Thoroughly mythic
is the trait in " The Twelve Wild Ducks," where the
youngest brother reappears with a wild duck's wing
instead of his left arm, because his ^ster had no time
to finish that portion of the shirt, upon the comple-
tion of which his retransformation depended.

But we should ill understand the spirit of the
Norsemen, if we supposed that these transformations
into beasts were all that the national heart has to teU
of beasts and their doings, or that, when they appear,
they do so merely as men-beasta, without any power
or virtue of their own. From the earliest times, aide
by side with those productions of the human mind
which speak of the dealings of men with men, there
has grown up a stock of traditions about animals and
their relations with one another, which forms a true

' Troldham, at kaite ham paa. Comp. the old Norse
hamr, kamfor, hammadr, hamrammr, which occqt repeatedly
in the same sense.

.yCOOgIC

INTRODTICTION. Ixv

Beaat Epic, and is fall of the liveliest traits of nature.
Here, too, it was reserved for Gritmn to restore these
traditions to their tme place in the history of the human
mind, and to show that the poetry which treats of them
is neither satirical nor didactic, though it may contain
touches of both these artificial kinds of composition, hut,
on the contrary, porely and intensely natural. It is Epic,
in short, springing out of that deep love of nature and
close observation of the habits of animals which is only
possible in an early and simple stage of society. It
used to be the fashion, when these Beast traditions were
noticed, to point to .lEsop as their original, but Grimm
has sufficiently proved • that what we see in .£sop is
only the remains of a great cycle of such traditions which
had already, in .^op's day, been subjected by the Greek
mind to that critical process which a Ute state of society
brings to bear on popular traditions ; that they were
then already worn and washed out and moralized. He
has also shewn how the same process went on till in
PLsdrns nothing but the dry bones of the traditions,
vitb a drier moral, are served up to the reader ; and he
has done justice on La Fontaine, who wrote his fobles
with all the wanton licentiousness of his day, and frit-
tered away the whole nature of his fables by the frivo-
lity of his allusions to the artificial society of his time.
Nor has he spared Lessing, who, though he saw through
the poverty of Phtedrus as compared with ^sop, and

* Beinhart Fachs, Introdnction.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Ixvi INTRODUCTION.

vaa alive to the weakness of La Fontaine, still wan-
dered about in the classical mist which hung heavy
over the learning of the eighteenth century, und saw in
the Greek form the perfecUon of all fable, when in ^sop
it really appears in a state of degeneracy and decay.

To the earnest inquirer, to one who believes that
many dark things may yet be solved, it is very satis-
foctory to see that even Grimm, in his " Reynard the
Fox," is at a loss to understand why the North, pro-
perly so called, had none of the traditions which the
Middle Age moulded into that famous Beast-Epic. But
since then the North, as the Great Master himself con-
fesses in his later works, has amply avenged herself for
the slight thus cast npon her by mistake. In the year
1834, when Grimm thus expressed his surprise on this
point, the North had no such traditions to show in books
indeed, hot she kept them stored up in her heart in ao
abundance with which no other land perhaps can vie.
This book at least shows how natural it seems to the
Norse mind now, and how much more natural of course
it seemed in earlier times, when sense went for so
much and reflection for so little, that beasts shoold
talk ; and how truly and faithfully it has listened and
looked for the accents and character of each. The
Bear is stilt the King of Beasts, in which character be
appears m " True and Untrue," No. i., but here, as in
Germany, be is no matoh for the Fox in wit Thna
Reynard plays bim a trick which condemns him for
ever to a stumpy tail in No. xz. He cheats him out of

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IHTEODUCTIOIT. IxTH

his Bhare of a firkiQ of batter in another Tale, which I
have Dot tranalated because it eeemed too coarse. He is
preferred as HerdsmiiD, in No. Tin,, before either Bear
or Wolf, by the old wife who wants some one to tend her
flock. Yet all the while he profeBses immense respect for
the Bear, and calls him *' Lord," even when in the very
act of outwitting him. Id the tale called " Well Done
and 111 Paid," No. xsxv., the craft; fox puts a fiuiah to his
miabehavionr to his " Lord Bruin," by handing him over,
bound hand and foot, to the peasant, and by causing his
death outright. Here, too, we have an example, whicli
we shall see repeated in the case of the giants, that
strength and stature are not always wise, and that wit
and wisdom never fail to carry tiie day against mere brute
force. Another tale, however, restores the bear to hie
tme place as the king of beasts, endowed not only with
strength, but with something divine and terrible about
him which the Trolls cannot withstand. This is " The
Cat on the Bovrefell," No. z. In connection with
which, it should be remembered that the same tradition
existed in the thirteenth century in Germany,* that the
bear ia called familiarly grandfather in the North, and
that the Lapps reckon him rather as akin to men than
beasts ; that they say he has the strength of ten and the
wit of twelve men. If they slay him, they formally beg
his pardon, as do also the Os^aks, a tribe akin to the
Lapps, and bring him to their hnts with great formali-

• QnmvD, IriHch. Elfenm. lU-19, aud D. M. 447.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Ixviii IHTBODCCTION.

ties and mystic sooga. To the Wolf, whose Dickname
U "Graylegs,"* these tales are more complimentary.
He is not the spiteful, stupid, greedy Isengrim of
Germany and France. Not that Isengrim, of whom
old English fables of the thirteenth century tell us
tiiat he became a monk, bnt when the brethren
wished to teach him his letters that he might learn
the paternoster, all they could get out of him waa lami,
lamb; Dor could they ever get him to look to the cross,
for bis eyes, with his thoughts, "were ever to the
woodward."t He appefu^ on the contrary, in "The
Giant who had no Heart in his body," N0.VBI., as a kindly
grateful beast, who repays tenfold out of the hidden
store of his supematural sagacity the gift of the old
jade, which Boots had made over to him.

The horse was a sacred animal among the Teutonic
tribes from the first moment of their appearance in
history, and Tacitus^ has related, how in the shade of
those woods and groves which served them for temples,
white horses were fed at the public coat, whose backs
no mortal man crossed, whose neighings and snortings
were carefully watched as auguries and omens, and who
were thought to be coDBciaus of divine mysteries. In

• Comp. Vict. Hog, N6tre-Dame de Paris, where be tells
us that the gTpeiee called the vo\i pledgrit. Bee also Grimm,
D. H. 633, and Beinhart, Iv. ccvii. and 446.

-}- Douce, niust. to Shatupeore, ii. 33, 314, quoted in
Beiubart Fuchs, coxxi.

X German. 9, 10.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

INTBODUCnOK. Ixix

Persia, too, the claesical reader vill remember how the
neighing of a horse decided t^e choice for the crown.
Here, in England, at any rate, we have only to think of
Hengist and Horsa, the twin heroes of the Anglo-Saxon
migradoQ, as the legend ran, — heroes whose name meant
" horse," — and of the vale of the White Horse in Berks,'
where the sacred fonn still gleams along the down, to
be reminded of the sacredness of the horse to our fore-
fathers. The Eddas are filled with the names of famous
horses, and the Sagas contain many stories of good
steeds, in whom their owners trusted and believed as
saured to this or that particular god. Such a horse is
Dapplegrim in No. xxxviii. of these tales, who saves his
master out of all his perilfi, and brings him to all for-
tune, and is another example of that mysterious connec-
tion with the higher powers which animals in all ages
have been supposed to possess.

The dog, to which, with all his sagacity and faithful-
ness, something unclean and impure clmge,as Grimm well
observes, plays no very prominent part in these Tales.*

" Thns from the earliest timoa " dog," " hound," has
been a term of reproacli. Great instances of fidelity, such as
" Gellert " or the " Dog of Montargis," both of which are East-
era and primeval, have scarcely redeemed the cringing cur-
rish nature of the race in general from di^race. H. Fran-
cisque Michel, in his Bittoire det Raeei Mcuidita de la France
el de PE$pagne, thinks it probable that Cagol, the nickname
by which the heretical Gkiths who fled into Aqnitune in the
time of Charies Harlel, and received protection from that king

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Ux INTRODDCTIOK.

We find him, liowe'ver, in " Not a Pin to cboose be-
tween them," No. iii., where his sagacity fails to detect
hie mistreee ; and, as " the foe of his own house," the
half-hred foxy hound, who chases away the canning

and his succesears, were called by the Franks, was derived
from the term Canit Oothicus or Ones Qolhi, In modern
French the wmd means hypocrite, and this would come from
the notion of the outward conformity to the Catholic formala-
ries imposed on the Ariaa Gothi by their orthodox protectors.
Etymologicslly, the derivation is good enough, according to
Dlez, Romaniackei Worterbuch ; Provencal ea, iog', Oot,
Qotbic. Before quittiag Oigot, we may observe that the
derivation of bigot, our bigot, another word of the same kiod,
is not so clear. Michel says it comes from Viitgothut, Bixi-
goVtiu- Diez says this is too far-fetched, especially as
" Bigot," " Bigod," was a term applied to the N'ormans, and
not to the population of the South of France. There is,
bemdes, another derivation given by Ducange from a Latin
chronicle of the twelfth century. In speaking of the homage
done by Rollo, the first Duke of Normandy, to the King of
France, he says, —

" Hie non dignatas pedem Coioli oscnlari nisi ad os sumn levaret,
cumque siii comites iUmn admonercnt ut pedem Regis in scceptione
tanti mnneris Neustrice provincite OHcnlaretur, Angticfi lingoft respon-
dit ')!« «e &>pof,'qaod intsrpretatur 'ne per deum.' Res vero et ani
illnm deridentes, et Bermonem ejus cormpt^ referentes, iUum voca-
verunt Bigottum ; nnde Nonnanni adhuo Bigotbi vooiiitur,"

Wace, too, says, in the Roman de Rou, that the French
had abused the Normans in many ways, calling them Bigoa.
It is also termed, id a French record of the year 142S, " vn
mot tret tTywieux." Diez aaye it was not used io its present
sense before the nzteenth century.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

iNTEODtronoK. Ixxi

Fox in " Well Done and III Paid," No. mxt. Still, be
too, in popular saperEtition, is gifted with a sense of the
soperaattiral ; he howls when death impends, and in
" Buttercup," No. xv., it is Goldtoolh, their dog, who
warns Buttercup and his mother of the approach of the
old hag. In " Bushy Bride," No, xr.iv., he appears only
as tie lassie's lap-dog, is thrown away as one of her
sacrifices, and at last goes to the wedding in her coach ;
yet in that tale he has something wierd about him, and
he is sent out by his mistress three times to see if
the dawn is coming.

In one tale, No. xxxiv,, the Goat appears in full
force, and dashes out the brains of the Troll, who
lived under the bridge over the bum. He, too, was
sacred to Thor in the old mythology, and drew his
thundering car. Here something of the divine nature
of bis former lord, who was the great foe of all Trolls,
seems to have been passed on in popular tradition to
the animal who bad seen so many adventures with the
great God who swayed the thunder.

Nor in this list must the little birds be forgotten
which taught the man's daughter, in the tale of " The
Two Stepsisters," No. xl., how to act in her trials. The
belief that some persons had the gift of understanding
what the birds said, is primeval. We pay homage to it
in our proverbial expression, " a little bird told me."
Popular traditions and rhymes protect their nests, AS in
the case of the wren, the robin, and the swallow. Occa-
sionally this gift Beems to have been acquired by eating

.yCOOgIC

Ixxii IHTEODDCTIOK.

or tasting the fleeb of a Biisbe or dragon, as Signrdr, in
the Niflung tale, first became aware of Regins' designB
agtunst his life, when be accidentally taeted tbe beart-
blood of F^nir, whom he bad slain in dragon shape,
and tbcD all at once the swallow's song, perched above
him, b^ame as ioteltigible as human speech.

We now come to a class of beings which plays a
large part, and always for ill, in these Tales. Theae
are the Giants or Trolls. In modem Norse tradition
there is little difference between the names, but origi-
nally TroU was a more general expression for a super-
natural being than Giant,* which was rather confined to a
race more dull than wicked. In the Giants we have
tbe wantonness of boundless bodily strength and size,
which, trusting entirely to these quolitJes, falls at last
by its own weight. At first, it is tme, that proverbial
wisdom, all the stores of traditional lore, all that could be
learnt by what may be called rule of thumb, was
ascribed to them. One sympathises too with them, and
almost pities them as tbe representatives of a simple
primitive race, whose day is past and gone, bat who
still possessed something of the innocence and virtoe
of ancient times, together with a stock of old expe-

* The most common word for a ^aut io the Eddas was
Jdtunn (A. Sax. eoten), which, etrange to say, survives in the
Scotch £tJD. In one or tno places the word Ogre has been
nsed, which is properly a Bomance word, aod comes from the
French Ogre, Itat. orco, Lat. orcna Here, too, we have an
old Boman god of the nether world degraded.

.yCOOgIC

IHTBODtJCTIOK. Uxiii

rience, which, however oaefnl, it might be as «ti
example to others, was quite useless to help them-
selves. They are the old Tories of mythology, ati
opposed to the ^sir, the advanced Liberals. They
can look back aud say what has been, but to look for-
ward to say what will be and shall be, and to ^nould
the future, is beyond their ken. True as gold to the
traditional and received, and worthless as dross for the
new and progressive. Such a.nature, when unprovoked,
is easy and simple ; but rouse it, and its exuberant
strength rises in a paroxysm of rage, thon^ its clumsy
awkward blows, guided by mere canning, fail to strike the
slight and lissom foe who wuts for and eludes the stroke,
until his reason gives him the mastery over sheer brute
force which has wearied itself out by its own exertions.*
This race, and that of the upstart ^sir, though
almost always at feud, still had their intervals of com-
mon intercourse, and even social enjoyment. Mar-
riages take place between them, visits are paid, feasts
are given, ale is broached, and mirth is fast and furious.
Tbor was the worst foe the giants ever had, and yet he
met them sometimes on good terms. They were des-
tined to meet once for all on that awful day, " the twi-
light of the gods," but till then, they entertained for
each other some sense of mutual respect.

* These paroxysms were called in Old Norse Jiitunmodr,
Ute Etm mood, as opposed to Atmodr, the mood of the .<£>tr,
that diviner wrath which, though buruing hot, was Still nnder
the control of reason.

d2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IXliv INTROUUCTIOS.

The TtoUb, on the other hand, with whom mankiDd
had more to do, were supposed to be lesa easy tempered,
and morij B^stematically malignant, than the Giants,
and with the term were bound up notions of Borcei;
and unholy power. But mythology is a woof of
many colours, in which the hues nre shot and blended,
so that the varioas rac^a of SDpematural beings are
shaded off, and fade away almost imperceptibly into eadi
other; and thus, even in heathen times, it muBt have
been hard to say «>xactly where ^e Giant ended and
the Troll begtm. Bift when Christianity came in,
and heathendom fell; when the godlike race of the
j^sir became evil demons instead of good genial powers,
then all the objects of the old popular belief, whether
Mbit, Giants, or Trolls, were mingled together in one
superstition, as " no canny." They were all Trolls, all
malignant ; and thus it is that, in these tales, the tradi-
tions about Odin and his underlings, about the Frost
Giants, and about sorcerers and wizards, are confused
and garbled ; and all supernatural agency that plots
man's ill is the work of Trolls, whether the agent be the
arch enemy himself, or giant, or witch, or wizard.

In tales such as " The Old Dame and her Hen," No.
ni., " Tlie Giant who had no Heart in his Body," No. vii.,
" Shortshanks," No. ivii,, " Boots and the Troll," Na
xxix.,"BootB who ate a match with theTroll,"No.iv.,the
easy temper of the old Frost Giants predominates, and
we almost pity them as we read. In others, as " The
Mastermaid," No. ix., " The Blue Belt," No. six, " Far-

.yCoOglc

IBTRODUOTION. Ixxr

mer Weatliereky," No. ixin., a sort of settled malignity
against mao appears as the direct workiDg and result of a
bad and evil spirit. In " Buttercup," No. xv., and " The
Cat on the Dovrefell," we have the Troll proper, — the
aupeniatnntl dwellers of the woods and hills, who go to
dnirch, and oat men, and porridge, and sausages indif-
iereotl;, not from malignity, bat because they know no
better, because it is their nature, and because they
have always done so. la one point they all agree, —
in their place of abode. The wild pine forest that
clothes the spurs of the fells, -but more than all, tiie
interior recesses of the rocky fell itself, is where the
Trolls live. Thither they carry off the children of
men, and to them belongs all the untold riches of
the minera] world. There, in caves and clefts in the
steep face of the rock, sits the Troll, as the repre-
sentative of the old giants, among heaps of gold and
ulver and precious things. They stride off into the
dark forest by day, whither no rays of the sun can
pierce ; they return home at nightfall, feast themselves
full, and snore out the night One thing was fatal to
them, — the sight of the sun. If they looked him full
in the face, his glory was too great for them, and they
burst, as in " Lord Peter," No. XLi., and in " The Old
Dame and her Hen," No. iii. This, too, is a deeply
mythic trait. The old religion of the North was a
bright and lively fwth ; it lived in the light of joy and
gladness ; its gods were the " blithe powers ;" opposed
to them were the dark powers of mist and gloom,

.yCOOgIC

btxvi IHTEODCCnON.

who could Dot bear the glorious foce of the Son, of
Baldr's beaming Tisage, or the bright flash of Tiunr's
levin boU.

la one aspect, the whole race of G-isnts and TtoIIb
stands out in strong historical light. There can be
little doubt that, in their continued existence amongst
the woods, and rocks, and hills, we have a memory of
the gradual suppression and extinction of some hostile
race, who gradually retired into the natural fastnesses
of the land, and speedily became myl^c Nor, if we
bear iu mind their natural position, and remember how
constantly the infamy of sorcery has clung to the Fimis
and Lapps, ^all we have far to go to seek this ancient
race, even at ihe present day. Between this outcast
nomad race, which wandered from forest to forest, and
from fell to fell, without a fixed place of abode, and the
old natural powers and Frost Giants, the minds of the
race which adored Odin and the .^sir soon engendered
a monstrous man-eating cross-breed of supernatural
beings, who fled from contact with the intruders as
soon as the first great struggle was over, abhorred
the light of day, and looked upon agriculture and
tillage as a dangeroiui innovation whicji destroyed
their bunting fields, and was destined finally to root
them out from off the taae of the earth. This fact
appears in countless stories all over the globe, for
man is true to himself in all dimes, and the savage
in Africa or across the Bocl^ Mountains, dreads tillage
and detests the plough as much as any Lapp or Sa-

.yCOOgIC

iNTBODUcnos. Uxvii

moyed. " See what pretty playtbJBgs, mother!" cries
the Giant's daughter, aa she uuties her apron, and shows
her a plough, and borees, and peasant " Back with
them this iostant," cries the mother in wrath, "and put
them down as carefully as you can, for these playthings
can do our race great harm, and when these come we
mnat badge." " What sort of an earthworm is this ?
" said one Giant to anotJier, when they met a man
aa they walked. " These are the earthworms that will
one day eat us ap, brother," answered the other ; and
soon boUi Giants left that part of Germany. Nor
does this trait appear less strongly in these Norse Tales.
The Giants or Trolls can neither brew nor wash properly,
as we see in Shortshanks, No. xvii,, where the Ogre
has to get Shortshanks to brew his ale for him ; and in
" East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon," No. zxxvi.,
where none of the Trolls are able to wash out the spot
of tallow. So also Ui the " Two Stepsisters," No. sl.,
the old witch is forced to get human maids to do her
houaebold work ; and, lastly, the best example of all,
in "Lord Peter," No. XLi., where agriculture is plainly
a secret of mankind, which the Giants were eager to
learn, but which was a branch of knowledge beyond
their power to attain.

" ' Swip a bit,' said ihe Cat, ' and I '11 tell you bow the
fkrmer sets to work to get in his winter rye.'

" And BO she told him such a hmg story about tbe winter
rye.

" ' First of all, you see, he ploughs the field, and then fae

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IxlTlll INTRODDOTION.

duQgs it, and then he ploughs it again, and then he lunowB
it,' and so she went on till the sun rose."

Before we leave these gigantic natural powers, ]et
OS lioger a moment to point out how heartily the Winds
are sketched in these Tales as four brothers ; of whom,
of course, the North wind is the oldest, and strongest,
and roaghest But though rough in form and tongue, he
is a genial, kind-hearted fellow alter all. He carries the
lassie to the castle, " East o' the Sun and West o' the
Moon," whither none of his brothers had strength to
blow; All be asks is that she won't be a&aid, and tJien
he tftkes a good rest, and pufis himself up with as mncii
breath as ever he can hold, begins to blow a storm, and
off they go. So, too, in " The Lad who went to the
North Wind," No. XXXI., though he can't restore Hie
meal he carried off, he gives the lad three things which
make his fortune, and amply repay him. He, too,
like the Grecian Boreas, is divine, and lineally descended
from Hnesvelgr, that great giant in the Edda, who site
" at the end of the world in eagle's shape, and when he
flaps his wings, all the winds come that blow upon men."

We have now only to consider the men and women
of these Tales, and then our task is done. It will be
sooner done, because they may be left to speak for them-
selves, and must stand or fall by their own words and
actions. The tales of all races have a character and
manner of their own. Among the Hindoos the straight
stem of the story is overhung with a network of imagery
which reminds one of the parasitic growth of a tropical

.yCOOgIC

IHTRODTICTIOS. Ixxix

forest. Among the Arabs the tale is more elegant,
pointed with a moral, and adorned with tropi'B and
episodes. Among the Italians it is bright, light,
dazzling, fuid swifL Among the French we have passed
from the woods, and fields, and hills, to my lady's bou-
doir,— rose-pink is the prevailing colour, and the air is
loaded with patchouli and mille fimn. We miss the song
of birds, the modest odour of wild-flowers, and the balmy
fragrance of the pine forest. The Swedes are more stiff,
and their style is more like that of a chronicle than a
tale. The Germans are simple, hearty, and rather comic
than hamorons ; and M. Moe* has well said, that as wo
read them it is as if we sat and listened to some elderly
woman of the middle class, who recites them with a
dear, Ml, deep voice. lu Scotland the few that have
been collected by Mr. Robert Cbambersf are as good in
tone and keeping as anything of the kuid in the whole
range of such popular collections.

These Norse Tales we may characterise as bold, out-
spoken, and humorous, in the true sense of humour.
In the midst of every difficulty and danger arises that
old Norse feeling of making the best of everything, and
keeping a good face to the foe. The language and
tone are perhaps rather lower than in some other collec-
tions, but it must be remembered that these are the
tales of "hempen homespuns," of Norse yeomen, of

* M. Koe, iDtrod, Norsk. Event., Christiania, 1851, 2i)
Ed., to which ths writer is largely indebted.
f Popular BhymeB of Scotland. Ed. 1847.

.yCOOgIC

bczx INTBODDCTIOtl.

Nonke Binder, who call a spade a spade, and who bum
tallow, not wax ; aad yet Id no collection of tales is
the general tone so chaste, are the great principlee of
morality better worked out, and right and wrong kept
BO steadily in sight. The general view of human
nature is good and kindly. The happiness of mar-
ried life was never more prettily told than in " Gud-
brand on the Hilletde," No. xvui., where the tender*
ness of the wife for her husband weighs down all oUier
conuderations ; and we all agree with M. Moe that it
would be well if there were many wives like Gadbrand's.
Tbe balance, loo, is very evenly kept between the sexes ;
for if any wife should point with indignation at such a
tale as " Not a Pin to choose between them," No. xxi.,
where wives suffer ; she will be amply avenged when
she reads " The Husband who was to mind the House,"
No. xxzvii, where the husband has decidedly the worst of
the bargmn, and is punished as he deserves.

Of particular characters, one occurs repeatedly.
This is that which we have ventured, for want of a
better word, to call " Boots," from that widely-sprtrad
tradition in English families, that the yoangest brother
is bound to do all tbe hard work his brothers set him,
and which has also dignified him with the term here
used. In Norse he is called " Askeju" or " E»pen
Aahefjia'^ By M. Moe he is called " Aak^<a" a word
which the Danes got from Germany, and which the
readers of Grimm's Tales will see at once is own
brother to AachenpUttel. The meaning of the word is

.yCOOgIC

INTBODnCTlOK. Ulxi

" one who pokes about the ashes and blows up the
6re;" one who does dirty work in short; and in
Norway, according to M. Moe, the term is ahnost
universally applied to the youngest son of the family.
He is Cinderella's brother in &ct; and just as she had
all the dirty work put upon her by her sisters, he meets
with the same fate from his brothers. He is generally
the youngest of three, whose names are often Peter
and Paul, as in No. XLi., and who despise, cry down,
and mock him. But he has in him that deep strength
of character and natural power upon which the good
powers fdways smile. He is the man whom Heaven
helps, because he can help himself; and BO, after his
brothers try and fail, he alone can watch in the ham,
and tame the steed, and ride up the glass hill, and
gtuQ the Princess and half the kingdom. The Morse
" Boots " shares these qualities in common with the
" Pinkel " of the Swedes, and the Dunanling of the
Germans, as well as with our " Tom Thumb," but
he starts lower than these — he starts from the dust-
bin and the coal-hole. There he gita idle whilst all
work ; there he lies with that deep irony of conscious
power, which knows its time must one day come, and
meantime can afford to wait When that time comes,
lie girds himself to the feat, amidst the scoffs and
scorn of his flesh and blood ; but even then, after he has
done some great deed, he conceals it, returns to his
ashes, and again sits idly by the kitchen-fire, dirty,
lazy, and despised, until the time for final recognilJon
e

U.g.VK.yC00glc

Ixxxii INTEODDCTIOS.

comeB, and then his dirt and rags fall off, — he stands
out in all the majesty of bis royal rohes, and is
acknowledged once for all a king. Id this way
does the consciousneas of a nation, and the rainor
of its thought, reflect the image and personification
of a great moral truth, that modesty, enduran<», and
ability will sooner or later reap their reward, however
much they may be degraded, scoffed at, and despised
by the proud, the worthless, and the overbearing.*

As a general rule, the women are lees strongly
marked than the men ; for these tales, as is well said, are
uttered " with a manly mouth ;" and none of the female
characters, except perhaps " The Mast«rmaid," can
compare in strength with " The Master Smith," " The
Master Thief," " Shortehanks," or " Boots." Still tiie
true womanly type comes out in iiill play in such tales
as " The Two Step-Sisters," No. xl. ; " East o' the
Sun and West o' the Moon," No. xxxvi. ; " Bushy
Bride," No. xliv., and " The Twelve Wild Docks,"
No. XLVi. In all these the lassie is bright, and good,
and helpful ; she forgets herself in her eagerness to help
others. When she goes down the well after the aaeqnal
match against her step-sister in spinning bristles against
flax ; she steps tenderly over the hedge, milks the cow,
shears the sheep, relieves the boughs of the i^ple-
tree, — all out of the natural goodness of her heart,

*' The SagHfi coatains many instaDcee of Noreemen uhn
sat thns idly over the fire, and were thence called Kolbitr,
cnaUiiUn, but who afterwards became mighty men.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IHTBODUCTION. IxXxHi

When she is sent to fetch water from the well, she
waafaes and brushes, and even kisaen, the loatheome
head; she beiieTes what her enemies say, even to her
own wrong and injury ; she sacriBces all that she holds
most dear, and at last even herself, because she is made
to believe that it is her brother's wish. And so on her,
too, the good powers smile. She can understand and
profit by what the little birds say; she knows how to
choose the right casket ; and at last, after many trials,
all at once the scene changes, and she receives a glori-
ODS reward, while the wicked stepmother and her ugly
daughter meet with a Just fate. Nor is another female
character less tenderly drawn in Hacon Grizzlebeaid, Nu.
v., where we see the proud, haughty princess subdued
and tamed by natural affection into a faithful, loving wife.
We sympathize with her more than with the " Patient
Grizzel" of thepoets, who is in reality too good, for her
Bt(H7 has no relief; while in Hacon Grizzlebeard we
begin by being angry at the princess' pride ; we are
gjad at the retribution which overtakes her, but we are
gradually melted at her sufferings and hardships when
she gives up all for the Beggar and follows him ; we
burst into tears with her when she exclaims, " Oh ! the
Beggar, and the babe, and the cabin I " and we rejoice
with her when the Prince says, " Here is the Beggar,
and there is the babe, and so let the cabin bum away."
And now it is tiaie to bring this introduction to an

* Mue, Introd. Norsk. Event.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

lixxiv IHTRODUCTIOH.

end, lest it should play the Wolfs part to Odin, and
swallow up the Tal(;a themselves. Enough has been
said, at least, to prove that even nnreery tales may ba?e
a science of their own, and to show how the old Nornir
and divine spinners can revenge tiiemselves if their old
wives' tales are inRulted uid attacked. The inquiry
itself might be almost indefinitely prolonged, for this is
a journey where each turn of the road brings out a
new point of view, and the longer we linger on our
path the longer we find something fresh to see. Popular
mytholo<;y is a virgin mine, and its ore, so far from
being exhausted or worked out, has here, in England
at least, been scarcely touched. It may, indeed, be
dreaded lest the time for collecting such English tradi-
tions is not past and gone ; whether the steam-en^e
and printing-press have not played their great work of
enlightenment too well ; and whether the popular tdes,
of which, no doubt, the land was once full, have not
faded away before those great inventions, as the race of
giants waned before the might of Odin and the ^sir.
Still the example of this very Norway, which at one
time was thought, even by her own sons, to have few
tales of her own, and now has been found to have them
so fresh and full, may serve as a warning not to aban-
don a search, which, indeed, can scarcely be said to have
been ever begim ; and to suggest a doubt whether the
ill success which may have attended this or that particular
attempt, may not have been from the fault rather
of the seekers after traditions, than from the want of

.yCOOgIC

INTBODUCTION. IXXSV

the truditJoDS themselreB. In point of fact, it is a
matter of the ntmost difficalty to gather Buch tales in
any couDtry, as those who have collected tbem most
Buccesefully will be the first to confess. It is hard to
make old and feeble women, who generally are the
depositaries of these national treasures, believe that the
inqnirer can have any real interest in the matter. They
fear that the question is only put to turn tbem into
ridicnie ; for the popular mind is a sensitive plant ; it
becomes coy, and closes its leaves at the first rude
touch ; and when once shut, it is hard to make these
aged lips reveal the secrets of the memory. There they
remain, however, forming part of an under-current of
tradition, of which tbe educated classes, through whose
minds flows tbe bright upper-current of faith, are apt
to forget the very existence. Things out of sight, and
therefore out of mind. Now and then a wave of chance
tosses them to tbe surface from those hidden depths,
and all Her Majesty's inspectors of scbools are shocked
at the wild shapes which still haunt the minds of tbe
great mass of the community. It cannot be said that
tbe English are not a superstitious people. Here we
have gone on for more than a hundred years proclaim-
ing our opinion that the belief in witches, and wizards,
and ghosts, anA letches, was extinct throughout the land.
Ministers of all denominations have preached tbem down,
and philosophers convinced all the world of the absurdity
of inch vain superstitions ; and yet it has been reserved
for another learned profession, tbe Law, to produce in one

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IxSXvi INTRODUCTIOS.

trial at the Staffordshire assizeii, a year or two ago, each
a host of witnesses, who firmly believed in witchcnfi,
and swore to their belief in spectre dogs and wizards ae
to show that, in tbc Midland counties at least, such
traditions are anything hut extinct. K so much of the
bad has been spared by steam, by natural philosophy,
and by the Church, let us hope that some of the good
may still linger along with it, and that an English
Grimm may yet arise who may carry out what Hr.
Chambers has so well begnn in Scotland, and discover
in the mouth of an Anglo-Saxon Gammer Gretbel
some, at least, of those popular tales which England
once had intcommon with all the Aryan race.

For these Norse Tales one may say Uiat notluDg
can equal the tenderness and skill with which MM.
Asbjornsen and Moe have collected them. Some of
that tenderness and beauty may, it is hoped, be found
in this English translation ; but to those who have
never been in the couatry where they are current,
and who are not familiar with that hearty simple
people, no words can tell the freshness and truth of
the originals. It is not that the idioms of the two
languages are different, for they are more nearly
allied, both in vocabulary and construction, than any
other two tongues, but it is the face of nature herself,
and the character of the race that looks up to
her, that fail to the mind's eye. The West Coast of
Scotland is something like that nature in a general
way, except that it is infinitely smaller and less grand ;

U.g.VK.yC00glc

INTRODtlOTlOK. IxXXVii

bat that cooBtant, bright blue sky, those deeply-in-
dented, sinuonB, gleaming, friths, those headstrong
riverB and headlong falls, those steep hill-sides, those
loDg ridges of fells, those peaks and needles rising
sharp above them, those hanging glaciers and wreaths
of everlasting snow, those towering endless pine forests,
relieved by slender stems of silver birch, those green spots
in the midst of the forest, those winding dales and
upland lakes, those various shapes of birds and beasts,
the mighty crashing elk, the fleet reindeer, the fear-
less bear, the nimble lynx, the shy wolf, those eagles
and swans, and seabirds, those niany tones and notes
of Nature's voice making distant music 'through the
twilight sninmer night, those brilliant, flashing, northern
lights when days grow short, those dazzling, blinding,
storms of autumn snow, that cheerful winter frost and
cold, that joy of sledging over the smooth ice, when
the sharp-shod horse careers at fall speed with the light
sledge, or mshes down the steep pitches over the crack-
ling snow through the green spmce wood — all thcEe form
a Nature of their own. These particular features belong
in their fulness and combination to uo other land.
When is the midst of all this natural scenery, we
find an honest manly race, not the race of the towns
and cities, but of the dales and fells, free and unsubdaed,
holding its own in a country where there are neither
lords nor ladies, but simple men and women. Brave
men and fair women, who cling to the traditions of their
forefathers, and whose memory reflects as from the faithful

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IxxXViii INTBODOCTION.

mirror of their native steel the whole histoiy and progress
of their race. When all these natural features, and such
a manl; race meet, then ve have the stuff out of which
these tales are made, the lividg rock oat of which these
fiharp-cut national forms are hewn. Then, too, om: task
of introducing them is over, we may lay aside om* pen,
and leave the reader and the tales to themeelves.

.yCOOgIC

NORSE TALES.

TRUE AND UNTRUE.

/~^NCE on a time there were two brothere ; one was
called True, and the other Untrue. True was
always npright and good towards all, but Uatrue was
bad and full of lies, so that no one could believe what
he Bud. Their mother was a widow, and hadn't much
to live on ; so when her sons had grown up, she was
forced to send them away that they might earn their
bread in the world. Each got a little scrip with some
food in it, and then they went tbeir way.

Now, when they had walked till erening, they sat
down on a windfall in the wood, and took out their
scrips, for they were hungry after walking the whole
day, and thought a morsel of food would be sweet
enough.

"If yon 're of my mind," said Untrue, "I think

.yCOOgIC

2 MOBSI TALES.

we had better eat oat of your Bcrip, bo long as ihexe
is aDyttiing in it, and after that we can take to

Yes I Tme was well pleased with this, so they fell
to eating, hut Untrue got all the hest hits, and stuffed
himself with them, while True got only the burnt crusts
and scraps.

Kext morning they broke their fast off Tnie's food,
and they dined off it too, and then there was nothing
left in his scrip. So when they had walked till late at
night, and were ready to eat agun, True wanted to
eat out of his brother's scrip, but Untrue SEud " No,"
the food was his, and he had only enough for him-
self.

" Nay ! but you know you ate out of my scrip ao
long as there was anything in it," said Trne.

"All very fine, I daresay," answered Untrue ; " but
if you are such a fool as to let others eat up your food
before your face, you most make the best of it ; for now
all you have to do is to sit here and starve."

" Very well !" said True, " you're Untrue by name
and untrue by nature ; so you have been, and so you
will he all your life long,"

Now when Untrue heard this, he flew into a rage,
and rushed at his brother, and plucked out Wth his
eyes. "Now, try if you can see whether folk are

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TBUE AKD CTNTBITE. 3

nntrne or not, you blind buzzard!" and so Baying, be
ran away and left bim.

Poor True t there he went, walking along and
feeling bis way through the thick wood. Blind and
alone, he scarce knew which way to turn, when all at
once he caught bold of the trunk of a great bushy lime-
tree ; 80 he thought he would climb up into it, and sit
there till the nigbt was over for fear of the wild beaatfl.

" When the birds begin to sing," he eaid to him-
self, " then I shall know it is day, and I can try to
grope my way farther on. So he climbed up into the
lime-tree. After he had sat there a little time, be
heard how some one came and began to make a stir
and clatter under the tree, and soon after others came ;
and when they began to greet one another, he found
oat it was Bruin the hsai, and Greylegs the wolf^
and Slyboots the Fox, and Longeara the hare, who had
come to keep St. John's eve under the tree. So they
began to eat and drink, and be merry ; and when they
had done eating, they fell to gossipping together. At
last the Fox said —

" Shan't we, each of us, tell a little story while we
rat here ?"

Well I the others had nothing against that. It
would be good fiin, they said, and the bear began ; for
yon may fancy he was king of the company.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

4 HORSE TALEB.

" The king of EDglacd," stud Bruin, " has such bad
eyesight, that he can Bcarce Bee a yard before him ; bat
if he only came' to this lime-tree in the morning, while
the dew is still on the leaves, and took and tubbed his
eyes with the dew, be wonld get back his sight as good
as ever."

" Very true I " said (Jreylegs. " The king of Eng-
land has a deaf and dumb daughter too ; but if he only
knew what I know, he would soon core her. Last year
she went to the <»}mmunion. She let a crumb of the
bread fall out of her mouth, and a great toad came and
swaUotred it down ; but if they only dug up the chancel
Boor, they would find the toad sitting right under the
dtar rails, with the bread still sticking in bis throat.
If they were to cut the toad open and take and give the
bread to the princess, she would be like other folk again
as to her speech and hearing."

" That is all very well," said the Fox ; " but if the
king of England knew what I know, he would not be so
badly off for water in his palace ; for under the great
stone, in his' palace-yard, is a spring of the clearest
water one could wish for, if he only knew to dig for it
there."

" Ah ! " said the Hare in a small voice; " the king
of England has the finest orchard in the whole land,
but it does not bear bo much as a crab, for there lies a

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TKOE AND UNTRCZ. 5

heavy gold chain ia three turns round the orchard. If
he got that dug up, there would not be a garden like it
for bearing in all his kingdom."

" Very true, I dare say," said the Fox; " but now
it's getting very late, and we may as well go home."

So they all went away together.

After ihej were gone. True fell aeleep as he sat
up in the tree ; hut when the birds began to sing at
dawD, he woke up, and took the dew tiom the leaves,
and rubbed his eyes with it, and so got his sight back
aa good as it was before Untrue plucked bis eyeii out

Then he went straight to the king of England's
palace, and begged for work, and got it on the spot.
So one day the king came out into the palace-yard,
and when he had walked about a bit, he wanted to
drink out of his pump; for you must know the day was
hot, and the king very thirsty ; but when they poured
him out a glass, it was bo muddy, and nasty, and foul,
that the king got quite vexed.

"I don't think there's ever a man in my whole
kingdom who has such bad water in bis yard as I, and
yet I bring it in pipes from far, over bill and dale,"
cried out the king.

" Like enough, your Majesty ;" said True, "but if
yon would let me have some men to help me to dig
up this great stone which lies here in the middle of

U.g.VK.yC00glc

6 KOBSE TALES.

yonr yard, you would soon see good water, and pleoly
of it"

Well 1 the Mag waa willing enough ; and they had
scarcely got the stone well ont, and dug under it a
while, before a jet of water sprang out high up into tlie
air, as clear and full aa if it came ont of a conduit, and
clearer water was not to be found in all En^and.

A little while after the king was out in bis palace-
yard again, end there came a great hawk flying ailer
his chicken, and all the king's men began to clap their
handa and bawl out, " There he flies 1" There he flies I"
The king caught up bis gun and tried to shoot the
hawk, but he couldn't see so far, so he feU into great
grief.

" Would to Heaven," he said, "there was any one
who could tell me a cure for my eyes ; for I think I
shall soon go quite blind !"

" I can tell yon one soon enough," said True ; and
then he told the king what he bad done to cure his own
eyea, and the king set off that veiy afternoon to the
lime-tree, as you may fancy, and bis eyes were quite
cured as soon as he rubbed them with the dew which
was on the leaves in the morning. From that time
forth there was no one whom the king held so dear aa
True, and he had to be with him wherever he vrent,
bo& at home and abroad.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TRUE AND mrntDE. 7

So one da;, as they were walking together in the
orchard, the king said, " I can't tell how it is that I
can't! there isn't a man in England who spends bo
much on his orchard as I, and yet I can't get one of
the trees to bear so much as a crab."

" Well 1 well I" stud True ; " if I may have what
lies Uu^e times twisted round your orchard, and men to
dig it up, your orchard will bear well enough."

Tea I the king was quite willing, so True got men
and began to dig, and at last he dug up the whole gold
chain. Now True was a rich man, far richer indeed
than the king himself, but still the king was well pleased,
for his orchard bore so that the boughs of the trees bung
down to the ground, and such sweet apples and pears
nobody had ever tasted.

Another day too the king and True were walking
about, and talking together, when the princess passed
them, and the king was quite downcast when he saw
her.

"Isn't it a pity, now, that so lovely ^ princess
as mine should want speech and hearing," he said to
Tree.

" Ay, but there is a cure for that," said True.

When the king heard that, be was so glad that he
promised him the princess to wife, and half his king-
dom into the bargain, if he could get her right again.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

S HOHSB TALES.

So True took a few men, and went into the church,
and dug up the toad which eat under the altar-nuls.
Then he cut open the toad, and took out the hread and
gave it to the king's daughter; and from that hoar
she got back her speech, and could talk like other
people.

Now True was to have the princess, and they got
ready for the bridal feast, and such a feast had never
been seen before; it was the talk of the whole land.
Just as tbey were in the midst of dancing the bridal*
dance, in came a beggar lad, and begged for a morsel
of food, and he was so ragged and wretched that evei;
one crossed themselves when they looked at him; but
True knew him at once, and saw that it was Untrue,
his brother.

" Do you know me again?" said True.

" Oh I where should such a one as I ever have so^
80 great a lord," said Untrue.

" Still you have seen me before," said True. "It
was I whose eyes you plucked out a year ago this very
day. Untrue by name, and untrue by nature. So
I said before, and so I say now ; but you are still
my brother, and so you shall have some food. After
that, you may go to the lime-tree where I sat last
year ; if you hear anything that can do you good, you
will be lucky."

.yCOOgIC

TBDE AND ITNTRUB. 9

So tJntrne did not wait to be told twice. "If True
baa got 80 much good by aitting in the lime-tree, that
in one year be has come to be king over half England,
wbat good may not I get," ha thought. So he set oflF
and climbed up into the lime-tree. He had not sat
there ]ong, before all the beaete came as before, and ate
and drank, and kept St. John's eye under the tree.
When they had left off eating, the Fox wished that they
shonld begin to tell stories, and Untrue got ready to
Hsten with aJl hla might, till bis ears were almost fit to
&11 off. Bat Bruin the bear was surly, and growled
and said —

" Some one has been chattering about what we
said last year, and so now we will hold our tongues
about what we know;" and with that the beasts bid
one another " Good night," and parted, and Untrue
waa just as wise as he was before, and the reason was,
that hia name waa Untrue, and his nature untme too.

.yCOOgIC

WHY THE SEA IS SALT.

/~iNCE oa a time, but it was & long, long time ago,
there were two brothers, one rich and one poor.
Now, one Christmas eve, the poor one hadn't so much
as a crumb m the house, either of meat or bread, so he
weDt to his brother to ask him for something to keep
Christmas with, in God's name. It was not die first
time his brother had been forced to help him, and you
may fancy he wasn't very glad to see bis face, but he
8wd —

" If yon will do what I ask yon to do, I'll give you
a whole flitch of bacon."

So the poor brother said he would do anything,
and was full of thanks.

" Well, here is the flitch," said the rich brother,
" and now go straight to Hell."

" What I have given my word to do, I must stick
to," scud the other; so he took the flitch and set ofi'.
He walked the whole day, and at dusk he came to a
place where he saw a very bright light.

" Maybe this is the place," swd the man to himself.
So he tnmed aside, and the first thing be saw was an

U.g.VK.yC00glc

WHY THB SKA IS SALT. 11

old, old m&Q, with & long white beard, who stood in an.
oathoneo, hewing wood for the Christinas fire.

" Good even," said the man with the flitch.

"The same to you; whither are you going so kte?"
said the man.

" Oh ! I'm going to Hell, if I only knew the right
way," answered the poor man.

" WeU, you're not fer wrong, for this is Hell," stud
the old man ; " when you get inside they will be all for
buying your flitch, for meat is scarce in Hell ; but mind,
you don't sell it unless you get the hand-quern which
stands behind the door for*it. When you come out, I '11
teach you how to handle the quern, for it 's good to grind
almost anything."

So the man with the flitch thanked the other for
bis good advice, and gave a great knock at the DeTil's
door.

When he got in, everything went just as the old
man had said. All the devils, great and small, came
swarming up to him like ants round an anthill, and
each tried to outbid the other for the flitch.

"Weill" said the man, "by rights my old dame
and I ought to have this flitch for our Christmas dinner ;
but since you have all set your hearts on it, I suppose
I most give it up to you ; but if I sell it at all, I'll
have for it that quern behind the door yonder."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

12 KORSE TALES.

At first the Devil wouldn't hear of such & barg^n,
and chaffered and haggled with the man ; but he stack
to wliat he said, and at last the Devil had to part with
his quem. When the man got out into the yard, he
asked the old woodcutter how he was to handle tike
quem ; and after he had learned how to uae it, he
thanked the old man and went off home as fast as he
could, but still the clock had struck twelve on Chrisbnas
eve before he reached hie ovni door.

" Wherever in the world have jou been?" stdd his
old dame ; " here have I sat hour after hour waiting
and watching, without so much as two sticks to lay
together under the Christmas brose."

" Oh I " said the man, " I could not get hack before,
for I had to go a long way first for one thing, and then
for another ; but now you shall see what you shall
see."

So he put the quern on the table, and bade it first
of all grind lights, then a table-cloth, then meat, then
ale, and so on fill they had got everything that was
nice for Christmas fare. He had only to speak the
word, and the quem ground out what he wanted. The
old dame stood by bleeeing her stars, and kept on ask-
ing where he had got this wonderful quem, but he
wouldn't tell her.

" It's all one where I got it from; you see the qnem

U.g.VK.yC00glc

WHT THE 8BA IB SALT. 13

is a good one, and the mill-stream never freezes, tltat's
enougli."

So he groand meat and drink and ' dainties enongh
to laat out till Twelfth Day, and on' the third day he
asked all his friends and bin to bis house, and gave s
great feast. Now, when his rich brother saw all that
was ou the table, and all that was behind in the larder,
he grew quite spiteful and wild, for he couldn't bear
that his brother should have anything.

" 'T was only on Christmas eve," he said to the rest,
" he was in such straits, that he came and asked for a
morsel of food in God's name, and now he gives a feast
as if be were count or king ; " and he turned to his
brother and stud, —

" Bui whence, in Hell's name, have you got all this
wealth ? "

" From behiud the door," answered the owner of
the quern, for he didn't care to let the 'cat out of the
bag. But later on the evening, when he had got a drop
too much, he could keep his secret no longer, and
broaght out the quern and said —

"There, you see what has gotten me all this wealth;"
and so he made the quern grind all kind of things.
When his brother saw it, he set his heart oh having the
quem, and, ailer a deal of coaxing, he got it ; but he had
to pay three hundred dollars for it, and his brother bar-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

14 NOBSS TALES.

gained to keep it till hay-hairest, for he thoagbt, if I
keep it till then, I can make it grind meat and drink
that will last for years. So you may fancy the quern
didn't grow msty for want of work, and when hay-
harvest came, the rich hrother got it, bat the other
took care not to teach him how to handle it.

It was evening when the rich brother got the qaem
home, and next morning he told his wife to go out into
the hay-field and toss, while the moweis cut the grass,
and he would etay at home fmd get the dinner ready.
So, when dinner-time drew near, he put the quern on
the kitchen table and said, —

" Grind herrings and broth, and grmd them good
and fast."

So the quern began to grind herrings and broth ;
first of all, all the dishes full, then all the tule fill), and
so on till the kitchen fioor was quite covered. Then
the man twisted and twirled at the quern to get it to
stop, but for all bis twisting and fingering the qaeiv
went on grinding, and in a little while the broth rose
so high that the man was like to drown. So he threw
open the kitchen door and ran into the parlour, but it
wasn't long before the quern had ground the parlour
full too, and it was only at the risk of his life that the
man could get hold of the latch of the house door
through the stream of brotii. When he got the door

U.g.VK.yC00glc

tTHT THE SEA IS SALT. 15

open, he rao out and set off down the road, vitli the
stream of herrings and broth at his heels, roaring like
a waterfall over the whole farm.

Now, his old dame, who was in the field toflsing
hay, thooght it a long time to dinner, and at last she
said —

" Well I though the master doesn't call ns home, we
may as weD go. Maybe he finds it hard work to boil
the broth, and will be glad of my help."

The men were willing enough, so they sauntered
homewards ; bat just as they bad got a little way up
the hill, what shonld they meet but herrings, and broth,
and bread, all running, and dashing, and splaehing to-
gether in a stream, and the master himself running before
them for his life, and as he passed them he bawled out,
— "Would to heaven each of you had a hundred
throats I but take care you're not drowned in the broth."

Away he went, as though the Evil One were at his
heels, to his brother's bouse, and begged him for God's
sake to take back the quern that instant ; for, said he —

" If it grinds only one hour more, the whole parish
will be swallowed np by herrings and broth."

But his brother wouldn't hear of taking it back
till Uie other paid him down three hundred dollars
more.

So the poor brother got both the money and the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

16 NOBSE TALES.

qaern, aod it wasn't long before he set np a farm-honse
far finer than the one in which hiB brother lived, and
with the qnem he ground so much gold that he covered
it with plates of gold ; and aa the fenn lay by the
sea-Bide, the golden house gleamed and glistened &r
away over the sea. All who sailed by put ashore to
see the rich man in the golden house, and to see the
wonderful quom, the fame of which spread far and wide,
tiU there was nobody who hadn't heard tell of it

So one day there came a skipper who wanted to
see the quern ; and the first thing he asked was if it
could grind salt.

" Grind salt I " said the owner ; " I should just think
it could. It can grind anything."

When the skipper heard that, he said he must have
the quern, cost what it would ; for if he only had it, he
thought he should be rid of his long voyages across
stormy seas for a lading of salt. Well, at first the man
woaldn't hear of parting with the qnem ; but the skipper
begged and prayed so hard, that at last he let him have
it, but he had to pay many, many thousand dollars for
it. Now, when the skipper had got the quem on his
back, be soon made off with it, for be was a&aid lest
the man should change his mind ; bo he had no time
to ask how to handle the quem, but got on board bia
ship as fast as he could, and set sail When be had

U.g.VK.yC00glc

WHT THE 8XA 18 SALT. 17

sailed a good way off, he brought the quem on deck
and Baid —

" Orind salt, and grind both good and fast."
Well, the quem began to grind salt so that it poured
out like water ; and when the skipper had got the ship
full, he wished to stop the quem, but whichever way
he turned it, and however much he tried, it was no
good ; the quem kept grindiug on, and the heap of s^t
grew higher and higher, and at last down sunk the
ship.

There lies the quem at the bottom of the sea, and
grinds away at this very day, and that is the reason
why the sea is salt

.yCOOgIC

THE OLD DAME AND HER HEN.

/~\NCE oD a time there vas an old widow who liTed
far away from the rest of the world, up under a hill-
stde, with her three daughters. She was so poor that
she had no stock but one single hen, which she piized
as the apple of her eye ; in short, it was always cack-
ling at her heels, and she was always ninning to look
after it Well I one day, all at once, the hen wa«
missing. The old wife went out, and round and round
the cottage, looking and calling for her ben, but it was
gone, and there was no getting it back.

So the woman said to faer eldest daughter, " You
must just go out and see if you can find our hen,
for have it back we must, even if we have to fetch it
out of the hill."

Well I the daughter was ready enough to go, so
she set off and walked up and down, and looked and
called, but no hen could she find. But all at once, juat
as she was about to give up the hunt, she heard some
one calling out in a clefl in the rock —

" Tonr lien trips inside the hill,
four hen tiipi iniid« the hill."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE OLD DAICE AND HER HEN. 19

So she went into the cleft to see what it was, but
she had scarce set her foot inside the cleft, before she fell
through a trap-door, deep, deep down, into a vaalt under
groond. When she got to the bottom she went through
many rooms, each finer than the other; but in the inner-
most room of all, a great ugly man of the hill-folk f;ame
up to her and asked, "Will you be my sweetheart?"

"No! I will not," she sfud. She wouldn't have
him at any price I not she ; all she wanted was to get
above ground again as fast as ever she could, and to look
after her hen which was lost. Then the Man o' the Hill
got so angry that he took her up and wrung her head
off, and threw both head and trunk down into the cellar.

While this was going on, her mother sat at home
waiting and waiting, bat no daughter came. So after
she had waited a bit longer, and neither heard nor saw
anything of her daughter, she said to her midmost
daughter, that she must go out and see after her sister,
sbd she added —

" You can just give our hen a call at the same time."

" Well I the second sister had to set off, and the
very some thing befell her ; she went about looking and
calling, and all at once she too heard a voice away in
the cleft of the rock saying —

" Toor hen tripa innde the hill,
Toot heo tripi inside the hill."

.yCOOgIC

20 NOBSE TALES.

She thought this strange, and went to see what it
could be ; and so she too fell throngh the trap-door,
deep, deep down, into the vault. There she went from
room to room, and in the innermost one the Man o' the
Hill came to her and asked if she would be his sweet-
heart ? No 1 that she would n't ; all she wanted was to
get above ground again, and hunt for her hen which was
lost So the Man o' the Hill got angry, and took her up
and wrung her head off, and threw both head and
tmnk down into the cellar.

Kow, when the old dame had sat and waited seven
lengths and seven breadths for her second daughter, and
could neither see nor hear anything of her, she sud to
the yoimgest,—

" Now, you really must sot off and see after your
sisters. 'Twas silly to lose the hen, but 'twill be sillier
still if we lose both your sisters ; and you can give the
hen a call at the same time,"- — ^for the old dame's heart
was still set on her hen.

Yes 1 the youngest was ready enough to go ; so she
walked up and down, hunting for her sisters and calling
the hen, but she could neither see nor hear anything of
them. So at last she too came up to the cleft in the
rock, and heard how something said —

" Toot ben tripa ineide the bil,
Toor hen tripi ionde tbe hiU."

.yCOOgIC

THE OLD DAVB AHD HBR HBN. 21

She thonght this straQge, so she too went to
see what it was, and fell through the trap-door too,
deep, deep down, into a vault When she reached
the bottom ahe went from one room to another, each
grander than the other ; but she wasn't at all afraid,
and took good time to look about her. So, as she was
peeping into this and that, she cast her eye on the
trap-door into the cellar, and looked down it, and what
should she see there but her sieters, who lay dead. She
had scarce time to slam to the trap-door before the Man
o' the Hill came to her and asked —

" Will you be my sweetheart?"

" With all my heart," answered the girl, for she saw
very well how it had goae with her sisters. So, when
the Man o' the HOI heard that, he got her the finest
clothes in the world ; she had only to ask for them, or for
anything else she had a mind to, and she got what she
wanted, so glad was the Man o* the Hill that any one
would be his sweetheart.

But when she had been there a little while, she was
one day even more doleful and downcast than was her
wont. So the Man o' the Hill asked her what was the
matter, and why she was in such dumps.

"Ah I" said the girl, "it's because I can't get
home to my mother. She's hard pinched, I know, for
meat and drink, and has no one with her."

.yCOOgIC

22 NOBSB TALES.

" Well 1 " BEud tlie Mod o' the Hill, " I can't let yon
go to see her ; hut just stuff Bome meat and diink into
a sack, and I'll carry it to her."

Yes ! ahe would do m, she said, with many thanks ;
but at the bottom of the sack she stuffed a lot of gold
and ralver, and afterwards she laid a little food on the
top of the gold and silver. Then she told the ogre
the sack was ready, but he must be sure not to look
into it So he gave his word he wouldn't, and set off,
Now, as the Man o' the Hill walked off, she peeped oat
after him through a chink in the trap-door ; but when
he had gone a bit on the way, he said, —

" This sack is ao heavy, I'll just see what there is
inside it."

And 80 he was about to outie the mouth of the
sack, bat the ^rl called out to him, —

"I see what you're at.
I tea what yon 're at."

" The deuce yoo do !" aaid the Man o' the Hill ;
" then you must have plaguy sharp eyes in yoor head,
that's all! "

So he threw the sack over his shoulder, and dared
not try to look into it again. When he reached the
widow's cottage, he threw the sack in Uirough the cot-
tage door, and aaid, —

.yCOOgIC

THK OLD DAUE AND HKB BEK. 23

" Here you have meat and drink from your
daughter; she doeBn't want for anything."

So, when the girl had been in the hill a good bit
longer, one day a billy-goat fell down the trap-door.

" Who Bent for you, I should like to know ? you long-
bearded beaat !" said the Man o' the Hill, who was in an
awlul rage, and with that he whipped up the goat, and
wrong bis head ofi^ and threw him down iuto the celUr.

"Oh!" aaid the girl, "why did you do that? I
might have had the goat to play with down here."

"Weill" said the Man o' the Hill, "you needn't be
BO down in the mouth about it, I Aould think, for I can
soon put life into the billy-goat agiun."

So saying, he took a flask which hung up agfunst
the wall, put the billy-goat's head on his body again,
and smeared it with some ointment out of the flask,
and he was as well and as lively as ever agfuu.

"Hoi hoi" said the girl to herself; "that flask is
worth something — that it is."

So when she had been some time longer in the hill,
she watehed for a day when the Man o' the Hill was
away, took her eldest sister, and putting her head on her
shonlders, smeared her with some of the ointment out of
the flask, just as she had seen the Man o' the Hill do
with the billy-goat, and in a trice her sister came to
life agtuQ. Then the girl staffed her into a sack, laid

.yCOOgIC

24 NORSE TALES.

a. little food over her, and aa soon aa the Man o' the Hill
came home, she said to him, —

" Dear friend! Wow do go home to my mother with
amoreel of food again ; poor thingi ebe's both bungr;
and thirsty, I'll be bound; and besides that, she's all
alone in the world. But you must mind and oot look
into the sack."

Well ! he said he would carry the sack ; and he
said, too, tliat he would not look into it ; bnt when be
had gone a little way, be thought the sack got awfully
heavy; and when he had gone a bid farther he said to
himself, —

" Come what will, I must see what 's inside this sack,
for however sharp her eyes may be, she can't see me
all this way off."

But just as he was about to untie the sack, the girl
who sat inside the sack called out, —

" I Me whftt JOD 're at.
I see vbat you're at."

"The deuce you dol" said the ogre; "thenyoa
must have plaguy sharp eyes ; " for he thought all the
while it was the girl inside the hill who was speaking.
So he didn't dare so much as to peep into the sack
again, but carried it straight to her mother as &8t
as he could, and when he got to the cottage door be
threw it in through the door, and bawled out, —

.yCOOgIC

THE OLD DAHE AND HER BEN. 35

" Here yon have meat and drink from your daugh-
ter ; she wants for nothing."

How, when the girl had been in the hill a while
longer, she did the very same thing with her other
nster. She pat her bead on her shooldere, smeared
ber with ointment out of the flask, brought her to life,
and stuffed her into the sack ; but this time she crammed
ill also as much gold and silver as the sack would hold,
and over all laid a very little food.

" Dear friend," she s^d to the Man o' the Hill, "you
really must run home to my mother with a little food
again ; and mind you don't look into the sack."

Yes ! the Man o' the Hill was ready enough to do as
she wished, and he gave bis word too that he wouldn't
look into the sack ; but when be had gone a bit of the
way he began to think the sack got awfully heavy, and
when he had gone a bit further, he could scarce stagger
along under it, so he set it down, and was just about to
antie the string and look into it, when the girl inside
the sack bawled out, —

" Tiee what jron're ttl

I ace wbat you'ra &t!"

"The deuce you do," said the Man o' the Hill, "then
you must have plaguy sharp eyes of your own."

Well, he dared not try to look into the sack, but
made all the haste he could, and carried the sack straight

.yCOOgIC

26 NORSK TALES.

to tLe girl's mother. When he got to the cottage door
he threw the sack in through the door, and roared out, —
" Here yon have food from your daughter ; she
wants for nothing."

So when the girl bad been there a good while longer,
the Man o' the Hill made up his mind to go out for
the day ; then the girl shammed to he sick and sony,
and pouted and fretted.

"It's no use your coming home before twelve
o'clo{!k at night," she said, " for I shan't be able to have
supper ready before, — I'm so sick and poorly."

But when the Man o' the HUl was well out of the
house, she stuffed some of her clothes with straw, and stuck
up this hiss of straw in the comer by the chimney, with a
besom in her hand, bo that it looked just as if she herself
were standing there. After that she stole off home,
and got a sharp-shooter to stay in tho cottage with her
mother.

So when the clock struck twelve, or just about it,
home came the Man o' the Hill, and the first thing he said
to the straw-girl was, " Give me something to eat."

But she answered him never a word.

" Give me something to eat I say I" called out the
Man o' the Hill, " for I am almost starved."

No ! she hadn't a word to throw at him.
" Give me something to eat I" roared out the ogre

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE OLD DAHE AND HKB BEH. 27

the third time. " I thiok you'd better open your ears
and hear what I say, or else I '11 wake you up, that I

winr

No 1 the girl stood just as still as ever ; so he flew
into a rage, and gave her such a dap in the face, that
the straw flew all about the nx>m ; but when he saw
that, he knew he had been tricked, and began to hunt
everywhere; and at last, when he came to the cellar, and
found both the girl's sistera mining, he soon saw how
the cat jumped, and ran off to the cottage, saying, " I'll
soon pay her offi"

But when he reached the cottage, the sharp-shooter
fired off hie piece, and then the Man o' the Hill dared not
go into the house, for he thought it was thunder. So
he set off home again as fast as he could lay legs to the
ground, but what do you think, just as he got to the
trap-door, the ann rose and the Man o' the Hill buret.

Oh I if one only knew where the trap-door was,
I'll be bound there's a whole heap of gold and silver
down there still 1

.yCOOgIC

BOOTS WHO ATE A MATCH WITH
THE TROLL.

/~\NCE on a time there was a farmer, who had three

80Q8 ; his meanB were small, and he was old sad
weak, and his sona woidd take to iiothing. A fine
large wood belonged to the farm, and one day the
father told his sons to go and hew wood, and try to
pay off some of hie debts.

Well, after a long talk, he got them to set ofif, and
the eldest was to go first. But when he had got well
into the wood, and began to hew at a mossy old fir,
what should he see coming up to him but a great
sturdy Troll.

" If you hew in this wood of mine," siud the Troll,
"I'll kill you!"

When the lad heard that, be threw the axe down, and
ran off home as fast as he could lay legs to the ground ;
80 he came in quite out of breath, and told them what
had happened, but his father called him " hare-heart," —
no Troll would ever have soared him from hewing when
he was young, he said.

Next day the second sou's turn came, and he fared

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BOOTS WHO ATE A HATCH WITH THE TKOLL. 29

just the same. He bad Bcarce hewn three Btrokea at
the fir, before the Troll came to him too, and said, —

" If yon hew in this wood of mine, I 'II kill you."

The lad dared not bo much as look at him, but
threw down the axe, took to his heels, and came scam-
pering home joHt like his brother. So when he got home,
hiB father was angry agMn, and said no Troll had ever
scared him when he was young.

The third day Boots wanted to set off.

" Yon, indeed I " said the two elder brothers ;
"you'll do it bravely, no doubt I you, who have scarce
ever set your foot out of the door."

Boots said nothing to thisi bnt only begged them
to give him a good store of food. His mother had no
cheese, so she set the pot on the fire to make him a
little, and he put it into a scrip and set off. So when
he had hewn a bit, Uie Troll came to him too, and said, —

" If you hew in this wood of mine, I '11 kill you."

Bnt the lad was not slow ; he pulled his cheese ont
of the scrip in a trice, and squeezed it till the whey
^urted out.

" Hold your tongue I " he cried to the Troll, " or
III squeeze yon as I squeeze the water out of tliis
white stone."

" JSTay, dear friend t" said the Troll, "only spare
me, and I'll help you to hew."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

30 KOBBB TALES.

Wei], on those terms ihe lad was willing to spare
him, and the Troll hewed so bravel;, that they felkd
and cut up man;, many fathoms in Uie day.

But when even drew near, the Troll said, —

"Now you'd better come home witii me, for my
house 18 nearer than yours."

So the lad was willing enough ; and when tliey
reached the Troll's bouse, the Troll was to make up
the fire, while the lad went to fetch water for their
porridge, and there stood two iron pails so big and
heavy, that he could 'nt so much aa lift them from the
ground.

"Pooh!" sadthelad," it isn't worth while to touch
these finger-basins. I'll just go and fetch the spring
itself."

" Nay, nay, dear friend !" said the Troll ; " I can't
afford to lose my Rpring ; just you make up tie fire,
and I'll go and fetch the wat«r."

So when he came back with the water, they set to
and boiled up a great pot of porridge.

" It's all the same to me," said the lad ; " but if
you're of my mind, we'll eat a match!"

" With all my heart," said the Troll, for he thought
he could surely hold his own in eating. So they eat
down ; but the lad took his scrip unawares to the Troll,
and hung it before him, and so he spooned more into

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BOOTS WHO ATE A HA^B WITH THE TROLL. 31

the scrip than he &t« himself; and when the scrip was
fall, he took up his knife and made a slit in the scrip.
The Troll looked on all the while, but said never a word.
So when they had eaten a good bit longer, the Troll
laid down his spoon, saying, " Nay ! but I can't eat a
morsel more."

" Bnt you shall eat," said the youth ; " I'm only
half done ; why don't yon do as I did, and cut a bole
in your paunch ? You'll be able to eat then as much as
you please."

"Bnt doesn't it hart one cruelly?" asked the
TroU.

" Oh," said the youUi, " nothing to speak of."

So the Troll did as the lad said, and then you must
know very well that he lost his life ; but the lad took
all the silver and gold that he found in the hill-side,
and went home with it, and you may fancy it went a
great way to pay off the debt.

.yCOOgIC

EACON GBIZZLE6EARD.

/~\NCE on a time there waa a princess wlio was so
proud and pert that no Buitor was good enough
for her. She made gome of them all, and sent them
about their busmeae, one after the other ; but though
she waa ao proud, still new auitora kept on coming to
the palace, for she was a beaut;, the wicked hussey I

So one day there came a prince to woo her, and
hia name was Hacon Grizzlebeard ; but the first night
he was there, the Princess bade the king's fool cut off
the ears of one of the prince's horses, and slit the
jaws of the other up to the ears. When the prince
went out to drive next day, the Priccess stood in the
porch and looked at him.

" Well I " ahe cried, " I never saw the like of this in
all my life ; the keen north wind that blows here has
taken the eaxa off one of your horses, and the other has
stood by and gaped at what was going on till hia jaws
have split right up to his ears."

And with that ahe burst out into a roar of laoghter,
ran in, alammed to the door, and let him drive off

So he drove home ; but as he went, he thought to

U.g.VK.yC00glc

HACOH GRIZZLEBBAGD. 33

himBelf lliat he would pay her off one day. After a
bit, he put on a great beard of moee, threw a great
fur cloak over his clothes, and dressed himself up just
like any beggar. He went to a goldsmith and bought
a golden spinning wheel, and sat down with it under
tiie Princess's window, and began to file away at his
ginning wheel, and to turn it this way and that, for it
wasn't quite in order, and, besides, it wanted a stand.

So when the Princess rose up in the morning, she
cune to the window and threw it up, and called out to
the beggar if he would sell his golden spinning-wheel ?

" No ; it isn't for sale," swd Hacon Grizzlebeard j
" bat if I may have leave to sleep outside your bed-room
door to-night, I'll give it yon."

Well, the Princess thought it a good bargain ; there
could be no danger in letting him sleep outmde her
door.

So she got the wheel, and at night Hacon Grizzle-
beard lay down outaide her bed-room. But as the
night wore on he began to &eeze.

" Hutetutetnteta I it is so cold ; do let me in," he
cried.

" Yon're lost your wits outright, I think," said the
Princess.

" Oh, batetntetutetu I it is so hitter cold, pray do
let me in," said Hacon Grizzlebeard again.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

34 NOBSE TALES.

" HuBh! huBhl hold your tongue!" said the Princefls ;
" if mj father were to know that there was a man in
the house, I should be io a fine scrape."

"Oh, hutetutetutetu 1 I'm almost frozen to death;
only let me come inside and -lie on the floor," said
Hacon Grizzlebeard.

Yes I there was no help for it. She>had to let
him in, and when he was, he lay on the ground and
slept like a top.

Some time after, Hacon came again with the stand
to the spinniug-wheel, and sat down under the Princeas's
window, and began to file at it, for it was not quite fit
for use. When she heard him filing, she threw up the
window and began to talk to him, and to ask what he
had there.

" Oh I only the stand to that spinning-wheel which
your royal highness bought ; for I thought, as yon had
the wheel, you might like to have the stand too."

" What do you want for it?" asked the Princess ;
bat it was not for sale any more than the wheel,
but she might have them if she would ^ve him leave to
sleep on the floor of her bedroom next night.

Well ! she gave him leave, only he was to be sore
to lie still, and not to shiver uid caU out " hutetu," or
any such stuff. Hacon Grizzlebeard promised fair
enough, but as the nigbt wore on he began to shiver

.yCOOgIC

HACOH GBIZZLEBEARD. 35

and shake, and to aek whether he might not come nearer
aod lie on the floor alongside the Frincese'e bed.

There was no help for it; she had to give him leave,
Jest the king should hear the noise he made. So
Hacon Grizzlebeard lay alongside the Princess's hed,
and slept like a top.

It was a long while before Hacon Grizzlebeard came
again; but when he came he had with him a golden
wool-winder, and he sat down and began to file away
at it tinder the Princess's window. Then came the
old story over again. When the Princess heard what
was going on, she came to the window, and asked him
how he did, and whether he would sell the golden wool-
winder ?

" It is not to be had for money; but if you'll give
me leaye to sleep to-night in your bedroom, with my
head on yonr bedstead, you shall have it for nothing,"
said Hacon Grizzlebeard.

Well ! she would give him leave, if he only gave
his word to be quiet, and make no noise. So he scud
he would do his best to be still ; bat as the night wore
on, he began to shiver and shake ao, that his teeth
chattered again.

" Hutetntetutetu I it is so hitter cold I Oh, do let
me get into bed and warm myself a httle," sfdd Hacon
Grizzlebeard.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

36 NOKSB TALES.

"Get into bed!" said the Princeaa; " why, you
muat have lost your wits."

" Hutetutetntetu 1 " said Hacoo; "do let me get
into bed. Hutetutetutetu."

" Huehl busbt be still for God's sake," sud the Prin-
cess ; " if father knows there is a man in here, I shall be
in a sad plight I'm sure be '11 kill me on the spot."

" Hutetutetutetu I let me get into bed," said Hacon
Grizzlebeard, who kept on shivering so that the whole
room shook. Well 1 there was no help for it; she had
to let him get into bed, where be slept both sound and
soft ; but a little while after the Princes had a cbUd,
at which the king grew bo wild with rage, that he was
near making an end of both mother and babe.

Just after this happened, came Hacon Grizzlebeard
tramping that way once more, as if by chance, and took
his seat down in the kitchen, like any other beggar.

So when the Princess came out and saw him she
cried, " Ab, God have mercy on me, for the ill-lack
you have brought on me ; father is ready to burst wiUi
rage; do let me follow you to your home."

" Oh ! I'll be bound you're too well bred to follow
me," stud Hacon, " for I have nothing but a log hut
to live in ; and how I shall ever get food for you I
can't tell, for it's just as much as I can do to get food
for myself."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

HACOH QB1ZZLBBB1.RD. 37

" Oh yes! it's all the same to me how you get it,
or whether you get it at ail," she said ; " only let me
be with you, for if I atay here any loDger, my father
will be sure to take my life."

So she got leave to be with the beggar, as she called
him, and they walked a long, long way, though she was
but a poor hand at trampiug. When she passed out of
her father's land into another, she asked whose it was ?

" Ob ! this is Hacon Grizzlebeard's, if you must
know," said be.

" Indeed I " said the Princess ; " 1 might have mar-
ried him if I chose, and then I should not have had to
walk about like a beggar's wife."

So, whenever they came to grand castles, and woods,
and parks, and she asked whose they were ? the
be^^ar's answer was still the same : " Oh I they are
Hacon Grizzlebeard's." And the Princess was in a sad
way that she had not chosen the man who had such
broad lands. Last of all, they came to a palace, where
he said he was known, and where he thought he could
get her work, so that they might have something to
live on ; so he built up a cabin by the wood-side for
them to dwell in ; and every day he went to the king's
palace, as be said, to hew wood and draw water for the
cook, and when he came back he brought a few scraps
of meat ; but they did not go very far.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

38 KOfiSS TALES.

One day, wIlbq he came home from the palace, be
eaxd, —

" To-morrow I will stay at borne and look after the
baby, but you must get ready to go to the palace, do yon
hear ! for the Prince said you were to come and try
your hand at baking."

" I bake ! " said the Princess ; " I can't bake, for I
never did such a thing in my life."

" Well, you must go," said Hacon, " since the
Prince has said it. If you can't hake, you can learn ;
you have only got to look how the rest bake ; and mind,
when yon leave, you must steal me some bread."

"I can't steal," swd the Princess.

" You can leam that too," said Hacon j " you
know we live on short commons. But take care that
the Prince doesn't see you, for he has eyes at the back
of his head."

So vrhen she was well on her way, Hacon ran by
a short cat and reached the palace long before her, and
threw off his rags and beard, and pnt on his princely
robes.

The Princess took her turn in the b^ehoase, and
did as Hacon bade ber, for she stole bread till her
pockets were crammed full. So when she vras about
to go home at even, the Prince stud, —

" We don't know much of Uiis old wife of Hacon

.yCOOgIC

HACOH QRIZZLEBBABD. 39

Grizzlebeard's, 1 tliink it will be better to see if Blie has
taken anything away with her."

So he thruBt bis hand into all her pockets, and felt
her all over, and when he found the bread, he waH in a
great rage, and led them all a sad life. She began to
cry and bewul, and said —

" The beggar made me do it, and I could not help it."

" Well," stud the Prince at last, " it ought to have
gone hard with you ; hut all the same, for the sake of the
beggar you shall be forgiven this once."

When she was well on her way, he threw off his
robes, put on bis skin cloak, and his false beard, and
reached the cabin before her. When she came home, he
was busy nursing the baby.

" Well, you have made me do what it went against
my heart to do. This is the first time I ever stole, and
this shall be the last ;" and with that she told him how
it had gone with her, and what the Prince had s»d.

A few days afler Hacon Grizzlebeard came home at
even and said, —

" To-morrow I mnst stay at home and mind the
babe, for they are going to kill a pig at the palace, and
you must help to make the sausages."

" I make sausages !" said the Princess ; " I can't do
any such thing. I have eaten sausages oHen enough ;
but as to making them, I never made one in my life."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

40 NOBSE TALES.

Well, there was no help for it ; the Prince had said
it, and go she must. As for not knowing how, she was
only to do what the others did, and at the same time
Hacon bade her steal some sausages for him.

"Nay, but I can't steal them," she stud; "yoo
know how it went last time."

" Well, you can learn t« steal ; who knows but you
may have better luck next time," said HaconGrizzlebeard.

When she was well on her way, Hacon ran by a
short cut, reached the palace long before her, threw off
his skin cloak and false beard, and stood in the kitchen
with his royal robes before she came in. So the Prin-
cess stood by when the pig was killed, and made sausageB
with the rest, and did as Hacon bade her, and stuffed
her pockets full of sausages. But when she was about
to go home at even, the Prince said —

" This beggar's wife was long-fingered last time ; we
may as well just see if she has n't carried anything ofil"

So he began to thrust his hands into her pockets,
and when he found the sausages he was in a great rage
again, and made a great to do, threatening to send for
the constable and put her into the cage.

" Oh, Grod bless your royal highness ; do let me off I
The beggar made me do it," she said, and wept bitterly.

" Well," said Hacon, " yon ought to smart for it ;
but for the beggar's sake you shall be forgiven."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

HACOH QRIZZLBBKAIU). 41

When she waa gone, he changed hia clothes again,
ran b; the short cut, and when she reached the cabin,
there he waa before her. Then she told hmi the whole
story, and awore, through thick and thin, it should be
the laEt time he got her to do such a thing.

Now, it fell out a little time alter, when the man
came back &om the palace, he said —

" Onr Prince is going to be married, but the bride
is sick, BO that the tailor can't measure her for her
wedding gown. So the Prince's will is, that you should
go up to the palace and be measured instead of the
bride ; for he says you are just the same height and
shape. But after you have been measured, mind you
don't go away ; you can stand about, you know, and
when the tulor cuts out the gown, you can snap up the
largest pieces, and bring them home for a waistcoat for
me."

" Nay, but I can't steal," she said ; " beeides you
know bow it went last time."

" Yon can learn then," said Hacon, " and you may
have better luck, perhaps."

She thought it bad, but still she went and did as
she was told. She stood by while the tailor was cut-
ting out the gown, and she swept down all the biggest
scraps, and stufled them into her pockets ; and when she
was going away, the Prince said —

.yCOOgIC

42 - N0B8E TALES.

" We may as well see if this old ^rl Has not been
long-fingered this time too."

So he began to feel and search her pockets, and
when he found the pieces he was in a rage, and began
to stamp and scold at a great rate, while she wept and
said, —

" Ah, pray for^ve me ; the beggar liade me do it,
and I couldn't help it."

"Well, you ought to smart for it," said Hacon;
" but for the beggar's sake it shall be forgiven you."

So it went now just as it had gone before, and when
dw got back to the cabin, the beggar was there before
her.

" Oh, Heaven help me," she stud ; " you will be the
death of me at last, by making me nothing but what is
wicked. The Prince was in such a towering rage that
be threatened me both with the constable and cage."

Sometime after, Hacon came home to the cabin at
even and said —

" Now, the Prince's will is, that you should go up
to the palace and stand for the bride, old lass 1 for the
bride is still sick, and keeps her bed ; but he won't put
off the wedding; and he says, you are so like her, that
no one could tell one from the other ; so t»-morrow yon
must get ready to go to the palace."

" I think you've lost your wits, both the Prince and

.yCOOgIC

BACON OniZZLEBEARD. 43

you," said she. " Do you think I look fit to atand in
die bride's place ? look at me I Can any beggar's
trull look worse than I ?"

" Well, the Prince eaid you were to go, and bo go
you muBt," said Hacon Grizzlebeard.

There was no help for it, go she must ; and when
she reached the palace, they dressed her out so Snely
that no princess ever looked bo smart.

The tnidal train went to church, where she stood
for the bride, and when they came back, there was
dancing and merriment in the palace. But just as she
was in the midst of dancing with the Prince, she saw a
gleam of light through the window, and lo I the cabin
by tiie wood-side was all one bright flame.

" Oh ! the beggar, and the babe, and the cabin,"
ahe screamed out, and was just going to faint.

" Here is the beggar, and there is the babe, and so
let the cabin bum away," said Hacon Grizzlebeard.

Then she knew him again, and after that the mirUi
and merriment began in right earnest ; but dnce that I
have never heard tell anything more abont them.

.yCOOgIC

BOOTS, WHO MADE THE PRINCESS SAY,
"THAT'S A STORY."

r^NCE on a time there was a king who had a daugh-
ter, and she was each a dreadful storj-teller that
the like of her was not to be found far or near. So
tiie king gave out, that if an; one could tell such a
Htring of lies as would get her to say, " That's a story,"
he should have her to wife, and half the kingdom be-
sides. Well, many came, as yon may fiincy, to tiy
their luck, for every one would have been very glad to
have the Princess, to say nothing of the kingdom ; but
they all cut a sorry figure, for the Princess was so given
to 8tory-t«lling, that all their lies went in at one ear
and out of the other. Among the rest came three
brothers to try their luck, and the two elder went first,
but they fared no better than those who had gone be-
fore them. Last of all iha third. Boots, set off and
found the Princess in the farm-yard.

" Good morning," he said, " and tliank you for
nothing."

" Good morning," said she, " and the same to you."

Then she went on —

.yCOOgIC

" that's a stobt." 45

Yon havea't euch a fine farm-yard as oore, I'll be
boanil ; for vben two shepherds stand, one at each end
of it, and blow their ram'a horns, the one can't hear
the other,"

"Haven't we though I" answered Boota ; "oars
is far bigger ; for when a cow begins to go with calf at
one end of it, she doesn't get to the other end before
the time to drop her calf is come."

" I dare say l" said the PrincesB. " Well, but you
haven't such a big ox, after all, as ours yonder; for
when two men sit, one on each horn, they can't touch
each other with a twenty-foot rule."

" Stuff!" said Boots ; " is that all? why, we have
an ox who is so big, that when two men sit, one on each
horn, and each blows his great mountiun-trumpet, they
can't hear one aoother."

" I dare say I " said the Princess ; " but you haven't
so much milk as we, I'll be bound ; for we milk our kine
into great puis, and carry them in-doors, and empty
ijiem into great tubs, and so we make great, great
cheeses."

" Oh I you do, do you?" said Boots. " Well, we
milk ours into great tubs, and then we put them in
carts and drive them in-doors, and then we turn them
out into great brewing vats, and so we make cheesee as
big as a great house. We had, too, a dun mare to

.yCOOgIC

46 HOBSK TALIS.

tread the cheese well together when it was making ; but
once she tumbled down into the cheese, and we lost her ;
and after we had eaten at this cheese seven yeaie, we
came upon a great dun mare, alive and kicking. Well,
once after that I was going to drive this mare to the
mill, and her back-bone snapped in two ; but I wasn't
put out, not I, for I took a spruce sapling, and put it
into her for a back-bone, and she bad no other back-
bone all the while we had her. But the sapling grew
up into such a tall tree, that I climbed right up to
heaven by it, and when I got there, I saw the Virgin '
Mary sitting and spinning the foam of the sea into pig's-
bristle ropes ; but just then the spruce-Gr broke short
off, and I couldn't get down again ; so the Virgin Mary
let me down by one of the ropes, and down I slipped
stnught into a fox's hole, and who should sit there but my
mother and your father cobbling shoes ; and just as I
stepped in, my mother gave your father such a box on
the ear, that it made his whiskers curl,"

" That's a story t" said the Princess; "my fether
never did any such thing in all his bom days I"

So Boots got tlie Princess to wife, and half the king-
dom besides.

.yCOOgIC

THE GIANT WHO HAD NO HEART IN
HIS BODY.

^NCE OQ a time there was a king who had seven
sons, and he loved them bo much that he could
never bear to he without them all at ouce, bnt one
most always be with him. Now, when they were grown
ap, six were to set off to woo, but as for the youngest,
ias father kept him at home, and the others were to
bring back a princess for him to the palace. So the
king gave the six the finest clothes you ever set eyes
on, 80 fine that the light gleamed from them a long
way off, and each had hie horse, which cost many,
many hundred dollars, and so they set off. Now, when
they had been to many palaces, and seen many prin-
cesses, at hist they came to a king who had six
daughters ; such lovely king's daughters they had never
Been, and so they fell to wooing them, each one, and
when they had got them for sweethearts, they set off
borne again, but they quite forgot that fhey were to
bring back with them a sweetheart for Boots, their
brother, who stayed at home, for they were over head
and ears in love with their own sweethearts.

.yCOOgJC

48 HOBSE TALKS.

But when they had gone a good bit on their way,
the; passed close by a steep hill-side, like a wall, where
the giant's house was, and there came the giant out,
and set his eyes upon them, and turned them all Into
stone, princes and princesses and all. Sow, the king
waited and waited for his six sons, but the more he
waited, the longer they stayed away ; so he fell into
great trouble, and said he should never know what it
was to be glad again.

" And if I hod not you left," he said t^ Boots, " I
would live no longer, so full of sorrow am I for the loss
of your brothers."

"Well, but now I've been thinking to ask your
leave to set out and find them again ; that's what I'm
thinking of," said Boots.

"Nay, nayl" said his father; "that leave you
shall never get, for then you would stay away too."

But Boots had set his heart upon it ; go he would ;
and he begged and prayed so long that the king was
forced to let him go. Now, you must know the king
had no other horse to give Boots but an old broken-
down jade, for his six other sons and their train bad
carried off all his horses ; hut Boots did not care a pin
for that, he sprang up on his sorry old steed.

" Farewell, father," said he ; "I'll come back, never
fear, and like enough I shall bring my six brothers
back with me ;" and with that he rode off.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE OUNT WHO HAD NO HKABT IN HIS BODY. 49

So, wheo he bad ridden a while, he came to aBaven,
which lay in the road and flapped its wings, aad was
not able to get out of the way, it was eo starved.

" Oh, dear friend," sud the Raven, " give me a
littie food, and I'll help you again at your utmost need."

" I haven't much food," said the Prince," and I
don't see how you'll ever be able to help me much ;
but still I can spare you a little. I see you want it."

So he gave the raven some of the food be had
brought with him.

Now, when be had gone a bit further, he came to a
brook, and in the brook lay a great Salmon, which had
got upon a dry place and dashed itself about, and could
not get into the water again.

" Oh, dear friend," said the Salmon to the Prince;
" help me out into the water agiua, and I'll help you
again at your atmoet need."

"Weill" said the Prince, "tiie help you'U give
me will not be great, I dfoesay, bat it's a pit^ you
should lie there and choke ;" and with that he shot the
6Bb oat into the stream again.

After that he went a long, long way, and there
met him a Wolf, which was so famished that it lay and
crawled along the road on its belly.

" Dear friend, do let me have your horse," stud the

.yCOOgIC

so NOBSE TALES.

Wolf; "I'm so hungry that the wind whieties through
my ribe; I've had nothing to eat these two years."

" No," said Boots, " this will never do ; " first I
came to a raven, and I was forced to give him my food;
next I came to a salmon, and him I had to help into
the water again ; and now you will have my horse.
It can't be done, titat it can't, for then I should have
nothing to ride on."

" Nay, dear friend, but you can help me," sfud Gray-
legs the wolf; "you can ride upon my back, and I'll
help you again in your utmost need."

" Well I the help I shall get fi^m you will not be
great, I'll be bound," said the Prince; "but you may
take my horse, since you are ao pressing."

So when the wolf had eaten the horse, Boots took
the bit and put it into the wolfs jaw, and laid tlie
saddle on his back ; and now Uie wolf was so strong,
^ter what he had got inside, that he set off with the
Prince like nothing. So fast he had never ridden
before.

" When we have gone a bit farther," said Graylegs ;
" I'll show you the Giant's house."

So after a while they came to it.

"See, here is the Giant's house," said the Wolf;
" and see, here are your six brothers, whom the Giant
has turned into etone ; and see here are t^eir six brides,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE QIANT WHO HAS NO HEABT IN HIS BODT. 51

aod away yonder is the door, and in at that door you
mast go."

" Nay, but I daiea't go in," said the Prince ; " he'll
take my life."

"No I no!" said the Wolf; ''when you get in
yon '11 find a PrinceBS, aud she'll tell you what to do to
make an end of the Qiant Only mind and do ae she
bids you."

WeU 1 Boots went in, but, truth to say, he was
very much a£nid. When he came in the Giant was
away, but in one of the rooms sat the Princess, jost as
the wolf had said, and bo lovely a princess BooU bad
never yet set eyes on.

" Oh I heaven help yon I whence have you come ?"
said the Princess, as she saw him ; " it will sorely be
yonr death. No one can make an end of the Giant who
lives here, for he has no heart in his body."

"Weill well I" said Boots; "but now that I am
here, 1 may as well try what I can do with him ; and
I vrill see if I can't free my brothers, who are standing
turned to stone out of doors ; and you, too, I will try to
save, that I will."

" Well, if you must, you must," said the Prince-se ;
*' and so let us see if we can't bit on a plan. Just
creep under the bed yonder, and mind and listen to what
he and I talk about. But, pray, do lie as still as a mouse."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

52 HOBSE TALES.

So he crept under the bed, and be had scarce got
veil underneath it, before the Giant come.

" Ha I " roared the Giant, " what a smell of CSiristian
blood there is in the house I "

" Tea, I know tliere is," said the Princeas, " for
there came a magpie flying with a man's bone, and let
it fall down the chimney. I made all the haste I coold
to get it out, but all one can do, the amell doesn't go
off so soon."

So the Giant said no more about it, and when night
came, they went to bed. After they had luu a while,
the Princess said, —

"There ia one thing I'd be bo glad to ask yon
about, if I only dared.'!

" What thing w that?" asked the Giant. <

" Only where it ia yon keep your heart, since you
don't carry it about you," said the Princeas.

"Ah! that's a thing you've no business to ask
about ; but if you most know, it lies under the dooi^sill,"
said die Giant

" Ho ! ho ! " said Boots to himself under the bed,
" then welt soon see if we can't find it."

Next morning the Giant got np cruelly early, and
strode oflT to the wood ; but he was hardly out of the
house before Boota and the Princess set to work to
look under the door-sQl tor his heart ; but the more they

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THS GIAMT WHO HAD MO EKART IN HIS BODT. 53

dog, and the more they hunted, the more they couldn't
find it.

" He has baulked us this time," said the Princess,
" but we'll try him once more."

So she picked all the prettiest flowers site could
find, and strewed them over the door-sill, which they
had l^d in its right place agtun ; and when the time
came for the Giant to come home again. Boots crept
under the bed. Just as he was well under, back came
the Qiant.

Snuff — snuff, went .the Giant's nose. " My eyes
and limbs, what a smell of Christian Uood there is in
here," said he.

" 1 know there is," stud the Princess, " for there
came a magpie flying with a man's bone in hia bill, and
let it fall down the chimney. I made as much haste
as I could to get it out, but I daresay it's that you smelL"

So the Giant held Ids peace, and said no more
aboat iL A little while after, he asked who it was
that had strewed flowers about the door-silt.

" Oh, I, of course," stud the Princess.

"And, pray, what's the meaning of all this," said
the Giant.

"Ah!" said the Princess, "I'm so fond of you that
X couldn't help strewing them, when I knew that your
heart lay under there."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

54 N0K8E TALKS.

" Tou don't Bay so," Baid the Giant ; " but after &Q
it doesn't lie there at all."

So when they went to bed again in the evening,
the Princess asked the C^iant again where his heart
was, for she wud she would so like to know.

" Well," said the Giant, " if you must know, it
lies away yonder in the cupboard agtunst the walL"

" So, 80 1" thought Boots and the Princess; " then
we'll soon tiy to find it."

Next morning the Giant was away early, and strode
off to the wood, and so soon as he was gone Boots and
the Princess were in the cupboard hunting for his heart
but the more they sought for it, the less they found it.

"Well," said the Princess, "we'll just try him
once more."

So she decked out the cupboard with flowers and
garlands, and when the time came for the Giant to come
home, Boots crept under the bed again.

Then back came the Giant

Snuff — anuff I " My eyes and limbs, what a smeU (^
Christian blood there is in here !"

" I know there is," said the Princess ; " for a little
while since there came a magpie flying with a man's
bone in his bill, and let it fall down the ctumney. I
made all the hastel could to get it out of the house &ffan ;
but after all my puns, I dare say it's that you smell."

THB OUNT WHO HAD NO HBABT IN HIS BODY. 55

When the Giant beard that be stud no more about
it ; but a little while after, he saw how the cupbotuxi was
all decked abont with flowers aod garlands ; so he asked
who it was tbat had done that ? Who could it be but the
Princess.

"And, pray, what's the meaning of all tbis tora-
iboler; ?" asked the GiauL

" Oh, I'm 80 fond of you, I couldn't help doing it
when I knew that your heart lay there," said the Friu*
cess.

" How can yon be so sUly as to believe auy such
thing?" said the Giant

" Oh yes ; how can I help believing it, when you
say it," said the PriuceBS.

"You're a goose," aaii the Giant; "where my
heart is, you will nerer come."

" Well," sfud the Princess ; "but foi all that, 'twould
be such a pleasure to know where it really lies."

Then the poor Giant could hold out no longer, but
was forced to say, —

" Far, far away in a lake lies an island ; on that
island stands a church ; in that church is a well ; in that
well swims a duck ; in that duck there is an egg, and
in that egg there lies my heart, — you darling !"

In the morning early, while it was still grey dawn,
the Giant strode off to the wood.

* • u:n;K v.' Google

56 NOBSE TALES.

" YcB I now I must eet off too," said Boots ; " if I
only knew bow to find the way. He took a long, long
iarewell of the Pnncess, and when he got out of the
Giant's door, there stood lite Wolf waiting for him. So
Boots told him all that had happened inside the honse,
and aaid now ])e wished to ride to the well in the
church, if he only knew the way. So the Wolf bade
him jomp on his back, he 'd soon find the way ; and
away they went, till the wind whistled after Uiem, over
hedge and field, over hill and dale. After tbey had
travelled many, many days, they came at last to the lake.
Then the Prince did not know how to get over it, bnt
the Wolf bade him only not be a&ud, but stick on, and
BO he jumped into the lake with the Prince on his back,
and swam orer to the island. So they came to the
church ; bat the church keys hung high, high up on
the top of the tower, and at first the Prince did not
know how to get them down.

" Yon must call on the raven," said the Wol£
So the Prince called on the raven, and immediately
the raven came, and flew up and fetched the keys, and
so the Prince got into the church. But when he
came to the well, there lay Uie duck, and swam about
backwards and forwards, just as the Qiant had said.
So the Prince stood and coaxed it and coaxed it, till it
came to him, and he grasped it in his hand ; but jast

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE dlAHT WHO BAD HO BEABT IM HIS BODY. 57

as he lifted it up from the w&ter the ducb dropped the
egg into the well, and theo Boots was beside himself to
know how to get it out again.

" Well, DOW you must call od the salmon, to be
sure," said the Wolf; and the king's son called on the
aahnon, and the salmon came and fetched up the egg
from the bottom of the well.

Then the wolf told him to squeeze the egg, and as
soon as ever he squeezed it the Qiont screamed out.

" Squeeze it again," said the Wolf; and when the
Prince did so, the Giant screamed still more piteously,
and begged and prayed so prettily to be spared, saying
he would do all that the Prince wished if be would only
not squeeze his heart in two.

" Tell him, if he will restore to life agun your six
brothers and their brides, whom he has turned to stone,
you will spare bis life," s^d Hie Wolf. Yes, the Giant
was ready to do that, and he turned the six brothers into
king's sons again, and their brides into king's daughters.

" Now, squeeze the egg in two," said the Wolf. So
Boots squeezed the egg to pieces, and the Giant burst
at once.

Now, when he had made an end of the Giant, Boots
rode back again on the wolf to the Giant's house, and
there stood all his six brothers alive and meny, with
tiieir brides. Then Boots went into the hill-side after

.yCOOgIC

59 H0B8B TALEB.

his bride, and bo they all set off home again to their
&ther*s bouse. And you may fimcy how glad the old
king was when he saw all his seven dons come back,
each with his bride ; — " But the lovelieet bride of all was
the bride of Boots, aRet all," said the king, " and he
shall sit uppermost at the table, with her by bis side."
So he sent out, and called a great wedding-feast,
and the mirth was both loud and long, and if they have
not done feasting, why, they are still at it.

.yCOOgIC

THE FOX AS HERDSMAN.

r\NCE on a time there was a womaD who went out
to hire a herdsman, and she met a bear.

" Whither away, Goody ? " aaid Bruin.

" Ob, I'm going out to hire a herdsman," answered
the woman.

"Why not have me for a herdsman?" said Bruin.

"Well, why not?" said the woman. "If you only
knew how to call the flock ; jost let me hear ?"

"OW, OWl" growled the bear.

" No, no I I won't have you," said the woman, m
soon as she heard him say that, and off she went on
her way.

So, when she had gone a bit further, she met a
wolf.

" Whither away, Goody?" asked the Wolf.

"OhI" said Bhe,"rm going out to hire a herds-
man."

" Why not have me for a herdsman ?" said the
Wolt

" Well, why not ? if you can only call the flock
let me hear?" sEud she.

.yCOOgIC

60 MORSE TALES.

"Uh, uhl"ewd the Wolf.

" No, no !" ntud the woman ; " you'il never do for
me."

Well, after she had gone a while longer, she met a
fox.

" Whither away. Goody?" asked the Fox.

" Oh, I'm juBt going oat to hire a herdsman," sud
the woman.

"Why not have me for yonr herdsman?" asked
the Fox.

"Well, why not?" said she; "if you only knew
how to call tlie flock; let me bear?"

" Dil-dal-holom," song out the Fox, in such a fine
clear voice.

" Tea ; 111 have yon for my herdsman," stud the
woman ; and so she set the Fox to herd her flock.

The first day the Fox was herdsman he ate up all
the woman's goats ; the next day he made an end of
all her sheep ; and the third day he ate up all her kine.
So, when he came home at even, the woman ae^ed
what he had done with all her flocks?

" Oh 1" Bfud the Fox, '* their skulls are in the stream,
and their bodies in the holt."

Now, the Goody stood and choraed when the fox
said this, but she thought she might as well step oat
and see after her flock ; and while she was away the

.yCOOgIC

TEE FOX AB HSBDSHAK. 61

Fox crept into the cbnm and ate up the cream. So
when the Goody came back and saw that, she fell into
sach a rage, that she snatched up the little morsel of
&e cream that wae left, and threw it at the foz as he
ran oS^ so that he got a dab of it on the end of his
t^, and that's the reason why the fox has a white tip
to his bnudi.

.yCOOgtC

THE MASTERMAID.

r^NCE on a time there was a king who had seven]
Bona — I don't know how many there were — bnt
the youngest had no rest at home, for nothing eke would
please him but to go out into the world and try his luck,
and after a long time the king was forced to give him leave
to go. Now, after he had travelled some days, he came
one night to a Giant's house, and there he got a place in
the Giant's service. In the morning the Giant went off to
herd his goats, and as he left the yard, he told the Prince
to clean out the stable ; " and after you have done tliat,
you needn't do anything else to-day ; for you must know
tiiat it is an easy master you have come to. But what is
set you to do you must do well, and you mustn't think
of going into any of the rooms which are beyond that
in which you slept, for if you do, I'll take your life.*'

" Sure enough, it is an easy master I have got,"
said the Prince to himself, as he walked up and down
the room, and caroUed and sang, for he thou^t tiiere
was plenty of time to clean out the stable.

" Bnt still it would be good fun just to peep into
his other rooms, for there must be something in them

.yCOOgIC

TES lUBTBRHAID, 68

which fae is afraid lest I should see, aince ha won't giTe
me leave to go in."

So he went into the first room, and there was a pot
boiling, but die Prince saw no fire underoeath it I
wonder what is innde it, he thought ; and then he dipped
a lock of his hair into it, and the hur seemed as if it
were all turned to copper.

" What a dainty broth," he said ; " if one tasted it,
he'd look grand inside hia gullet;" and wil^ that he
went into the next room. There, too, was a pot hang-
ing by a hook, which bubbled and boiled ; but there was
no fire under that either.

" i may as welt try this too," said the Prince, as he
put another lock into the pot, and it came out all sUvered.

" They haven't sudi rich broth in my father's bouse,"
said the Prince ; " but it all depends aa how it tastes,"
and with that he went on into the third room. There,
too, hung a pot, and boOed just as he had seen in the
two other rooms, and the Prince had a mind to try thia
too, so he dipped a lock of hair into it, and it came out
gilded, BO that the light gleamed from it.

" ' Worse and worse,' said the old wife ; but I say,
better and better," said the Prince ; " but if he boils
gold here, I wonder what he boils in ytmder."

He thought he might as well see ; so be went through
the door into the fourth room. Well, there was no pot

.yCOOgIC

64 M0B8E TALKS.

in there, but there was a Princ^B, eeated od a bendi,
80 lovel;, that the Prince had never seen aDything like
her in his bom days.

" Oh ! in Heaven's name," she stud, " what do yon
want here ? "

" I got a place here yesterday," eaid tjie Prince.

" A place, indeed I Heaven help you out of it."

" Well, after all, I think I've got an easy master ;
be hasn't set me mnch to do to-day, for after I bave
cleaned out the stable, my day's work ia over."

"Yes, but how will you do it," sbe sud; "for if you
set to work to clean it like other folk, ten pitchforks full
will come in for every one you toss out But I wil!
teacb you bow to set to work ; you mast turn the fork
upside down, and toss with the handle, and then all tbe
dung will fly out of itself."

" Yes, he wonld he sure to do that," eaid the Prince;
and so he sat tliere tbe whole day, for be and tbe Prin-
cess were soon great fiieDds, and bad made up their
minds to have one another, and so tbe first day of bis
service with tbe Giant was not long, you may fancy.
But when the evening drew on, she said 'twould bo as
well if be got the stable cleaned out before the Giant
came borne ; tmd when he went to tbe stable, be thought
be would just see if what she bad scud were true, and
BO be-begMi to work like tbe grooms in bis btber's

.yCOOgIC

THB HASTERHAID. 65

stable ; bnt he soon had enough of that, for he had not
worked a minute before the Btable was bo foil of dung
that he hadn't room to stand. Then he did as the
Princess bade him, and turned up the fork and worked
with the handle, and 1o I in a trice the stable was as
clean as if it had been scoured. And when he had done
his work, he went back into the room where the Giant had
given him leave to be, fuid began to walk up and down,
and to carol and aing. So after a bit home came the
Giant with his goats.

" Have you cleaned the stable?" asked the Giant.

"Yes, now it's all right and tight, master," an-
swered the Prince.

"I'll soon see if it is," growled the Giant, and
stoode off to the stable, where he found it just as the
Prince had s«d,

" You've been talking to my Mastermaid, I can
see," said the Giant ; *' for you've not sacked tfiis know-
ledge oat of your own breast."

" Mastermaid I " said the Prince, who looked as
stupid as an owl, " what sort of thing is that, master?
I'd be very glad to see it."

"Well, well!" s^d the Giant; " you'll see her
soon enough." '

Next day the Giant set off with his goats again,
and before be went he told the Prince to fetch home
d2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

66 HOBSB TALKS.

hiB hoise, whicli was out at grass on the hill-side, and
when he had done that he might rest all the day.

" For 70U most know, it is an ea^ master 70a
hare come to," sud the Qiant ; " hut if yon go into
any of the rooms I spoke of yesterday, I'll wring yonr
bead off."

So off he went with his flock of goats.
" An easy master you are indeed," said the Prince ;
" but for all that, I'll just go in and have a chat with
your Mastermaid ; may be she 'II be as soon mine as
yours." So he went in to her, and she asked him what
he had to do that day.

" Oh I nothing to be afraid of," said he ; " I've only
to go up to the hill-side to fetch his horse."

" Very well, and how will you set ahont it?"
" Well, for that matter, there 's no great art in rid-
ing a horse home. I fancy I've ridden fi'esher horses
before now," said the Prince.

" Ah, but this isn't so easy a task as you think;
bnt I'll teach you how to do it. When you get near
it, fire and flame will come out of its noHtrils, as out
of a tar barrel ; bat look out, and take the bit which
hangs behind the door yonder, and throw it right into
his jaws, and he will grow so tame that you may do
what you like with him.

Yes I the Prince would mind «id do that ; and eo

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HASTIBHAID. 67

be sat in there Uie whole day, talking aod chattering
with the Maatermaid aboat one thing and another, but
they always came back to how happy they would be if
they could only have one another, and get well away
from the Giant ; and, to tell the truth, the Prince would
have elean forgotten both the horse and the hill-side,
if the Maatermaid hadn't put him, in mind of them
when evening drew on, telling him he had better set
out to fetch the horse before the Giant came home. So
be set off, and took the bit which hung in the comer,
ran np the bill, and it wasn't long before he met the
horse, with fire and flame streaming oat of its nostrils.
But he watched his time, and, as the horse <;ame open-
jawed up to him, he threw the bit into its mouth, and
it stood as qaiet as a lamb. Afler that, it was no great
matter to ride it home aai put it up, you may fancy;
and then the Prince went into his room again, and
began to carol and sing.

So the Giant came home again at even with bis
goats ; and the first words he said were, —

" Have yon brought my horse down from the
hill?"

" Yes, master, that Ibave," said the Prince; "and
a better horse I never besbY)de; but for all that I rode
him straight home, and put him up safe uid sound."
" I'll soon see to that," said the Giant, and ran out

U.g.VK.yC00glc

68 HOBSB TALES.

to the stable, and there stood the horse just as the
Prince had eaii.

"You've talked to mj Uastermaid, I'll be bound,
fm- yon haven't sacked this ont of yonr own breast,"
said the Giant again.

" Yesterday master talked of t^s Mastermaid, and
to-day it's the same story," said the Prince, who pre-
tended to be silly and stupid. " Bless yon, master 1
why don't yon show me the thing at once ? I should so
like to see it only once in my life."

" Oh, if that's all," said the Giant, "you'll see her
soon enough."

The third day, at dawn, the Giant went off to the
wood again with his goats; but before he vent he said
to the Prince, —

" To-day you must go to Hell and fetch my fire-
tax. When you have done that you can rest yourself
all day, for yon must know it is an easy master yon
have come to;" and with that off he went.

"Easy master, indeed!" said the Prince. "You
may be easy, but you set me hard tasks all the same.
But I may as well see if I can find your Mastermaid, as
you call her. I daresay she'll tell me what to do ; "
and so in he went to her again.

So when the Mastennaid asked what the Giant had
set him to do that day, he told her how he was to go
to Hell and fetch the fire-tax.

L)in;« ...Google

TBB UASTXBHAU). €9

" And hov wiU yoa Bet about it?" aaked the Mas-
tennaid.

" Oil, that yoa mnat tell me," said the Prince. " I
hare never been to Hell in my life ; and even if I knew
the way, I don't know bow mach I am to ask for."

" Well, I'll Boon. tell you," said Maatennaid ; " you
must go to the Bteep rock away yonder, under the hill*
side, and take the club that lies there, and knock on
the face of the rock. Then there will come out one
all glistening with fire; to him yon must tell your errand ;
and when he asks you how much you will have, mind
you say, as much as I can carry."

Yes ; he would be sure to say that ; so he sat in
there with the Mastennaid all that day t«o ; and though
evening drew on, be would have sat there till now, had
not the Mastermaid put him in mind that it was high
time to he off to Hell to fetch the Giant's fire-tax before
he came home. So he went on hie way, and did just
as the Mastermaid had told him ; and when he reached
tbe rock, he took up the club and gave a great thump.
Then the rock opened, and out came one whose face
glistened, and out of whose eyes and nostrils flew sparks
of fire.

" What is your will?" said he.

*'Ohl I'm only come from the Giant to fetch his
fire-tax," sfud the Prince.

.yCOOglC.

70 H0B8B TALES.

" How much viQ jaa have then?" said the other.

" I neyer wish for more than I am able to carry,"
said the Prince.

" Lucky for you that you did not ask for a whole
cart-load," said he who came out of the rock ; " bat
come DOW into the rock with me, and yon shall have
it."

So the Prince went in with him, and you may fency
what heaps and heaps of gold and silver he saw lying
in there, just like stones in a gravel-pit ; and he got a
load just as big as he was able to carry, and set (^
home with it. Kow, when the Giant came home with
hie goats at even, the Prince went into his room, and
began to carol and sing B8 he had done the eveningB
before.

" Have you been to Hell after my fire-tax ?" roared
the Giant

" Oh yes ; that I have, master," answered the
Prince.

" Where have you put it?" said the Giant.

" There stands the sack on the bench yonder," said
the Prince.

" I'll soon see to that," said the Giant, who strode
off to the bench, and there he saw the sack so full that
the gold and silver dropped out on the floor as soon as
ever he untied the string.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THX KA8TIB1U1D. 71

"Too'Te been talking to my Hastennaid, that I
can Bee," Baid the Giant; "biit if you have, I'll wring
your head off."

" Hastemuudl " said the Prince ; " yesterday master
talked of this Mastermaid, and to-day be talks of her
again, and the day before yest^ay it was the same •
story. I only wish I could see what sort of thing she
is ; that I do."

" Well, veil, wait till to-morrow," sud the Giant,
" and then I'll take yoo in to her myself."

" Thank you kindly, master," said the Prince ; " but
it's only a joke of master's, I'll be bound."

So next day the Giant took him in to the Master-
maid, uid said to her, —

" Now, you must cut his throat, and boil hun in the
great big pot you wot of; and when the broth is ready,
just ^ve me a caU."

After that, he Itud him down on the bench to sleep,
and began to snore so, that it sounded like thunder on
the hills.

So the Uastermfdd took a knife and cut the Prince
in his little finger, and let three drops of blood fall on a
three-le^ed stool ; and after that she took all the old
rags, and soles of shoes, and all the rubbish she could
lay bands on, and put them into the pot ; and then she
filled a chest full of ground gold, and took a lump of

U.g.VK.yC00glc

72 NOOSE TALKS.

salt, aod a flask of water that hung behind the door,
and she took, besides, a golden apple, and two goldeD
chickens, and off she set with the Friuc^e &om the
Giant's house as fast as they could ; and when they had
gone a little way, they came to the sea, and after that
they sailed over the sea ; bnt where they got ihe ship
from, I have never heard tell.

So when the Giant had slumbered a good bit, he
began to stretch himself as he lay on the bench, and
called out, " WUl it be soon done?"

" Only just begun," answered the first drop of blood
on the stool.

So the Giant lay down to sleep again, and alum-
bered a long, long time. At last he began to toss about
a little, and cried out, —

" Do yon hear what I say ; will it be soon done ?"
but he did not look up this time, any more than the
first, for he was still half asleep.

" Half done," eaid the second drop of blood.

Then the Giant thought again it was the Mastermaid,
so he turned over on his other side, and fell asleep again ;
and when be had gone on sleeping for many hours, fa«
began to stir and stretch hie old bones, and to call out, —

"Isn't it done yet?"

" Done to a turn," said the third drop of blood.

Then the Giant rose up and began to rub his eyea,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE UABTKBHUD. 73

but he couldn't see who it was that was talking to him,
BO he searched and called for the Mastermaid, but no one
answered.

" Ah, well! I dare say ehe's just run out of doors for
a bit," he thought, and took up a spoon and went up to
the pot to taste the broth ; bnt he fotmd nothing but
sboe-Boles, and rags, and such stuff, and it was all boiled
up together, so that be couldn't tell which was thick and
which was thin. As soon as he saw this, he could tell
how things bad gone, and he got so angry that he scarce
knew which leg to stand upon. Away he went after
the Prince and the Mastermaid, till the wind whistled
behind him ; but before long, he came to the water and
couldn't cross it.

" Never mind," he said ; " I know a cure for this.
I've only got to call on my stream-sucker."

So he called on his stream-sucker, and he came and
stooped down, and took one, two, three gulps ; and
then the water fell so much in the sea, that the Giant
could see the Mastermaid and the Prince suling in their
ship.

" Now, you must cast out the lump of salt," said the
Mastermaid.

So the Prince threw it overboard, and it grow up
into a mountain so high, right across the sea, that the

.yCOOgIC

74 KOBSE TALES.

Giant couldn't pass it, and the stream-sucker couldn't
help him by swilling any more water.

" Never mind I" cried the Giant ; " there 's a cure
for this too." So he called on his hill-borer to come and
bore through the mouDtain, that the stream-sucker might
creep through and take another swill ; but just as they
had made a hole through the hill, and the stream-sucker
was about to drink, the Mastermaid told the Prince to
throw overboard a drop or two out of the flask, and
then the sea was just aa full as ever, and before ^e
stream-sucker could take another gulp, they reached the
land and were saved from the Giant

So they made up their minds to go home to the
Prince's father, but the Prince would not hear of the
Mastermud's walking, for be thought it seemly neither
for her nor for him.

" Just wait here ten minutes," he said, " while I
go home afier the seven holies which stuid in my
father's stall. It's no great way off, and I shan't be
long about it ; but I will not hear of my sweetheart
walking to my father's palace."

" Ah t" said the Mastennaid, " pray don't leave me,
for if you once get home to the palace, you'll forget me
outright ; I know you will."

" Oh !" said he, " how can I forget you ; you with

.yCOOgIC

THE UASTBBUAID. 75

whom I have gone through so much, and whom I love
so dearly ?"

There was no help for it, he muBt and would go
home to fetch the coach and seven horses, and she was
to wait for him b; the eea-eide. So at last the Master-
maid was forced to let him have his way ; she ooly
said, — '^

" Now, when you get home, don't stop so much
as to say good day to any one, but go straight to the
stable and put to the horses, and drive back ae quick as
you can ; fur they will all come about you ; but do ae
thoDgh you did not see them ; and above all things,
mind you do not taete a morsel of food, for if you do,
we shall both come to grie£"

Ail this the Prince promised ; but he thought all
the time there was little fear of his forgetting her.

Now, just as be came home to the palace, one of
his brothers was thinking of holding his bridal feast, and
the bride, and all her kith and kin, were just come to the
palace. So they all thronged round him, and asked
about thia thing and that, and wanted him to go in
with them ; but he made as though be did not sec them,
and went Btnught to tbe Btsil and got out the horsefi,
and began to put them to. And when they saw
tliey could not get him to go in, they came out to
him with meat and drink, and the beat of everj'thing

U.g.VK.yC00glc

76 K0B8K TALES.

they had got ready for the feaet ; hut the Prioce would
not taste BO much as a crumb, and put to as fast as he
coald. At last the bride's sister rolled an apple across
the yard to him, saying —

" Well, if you won't eat anything else, you may as
well take a bite of this, for you must be both hungry
and thirsty after so long a journey."

So he took up the apple and bit a piece out of it ;
but he had scarce done so, before he forgot the Master-
maid, and how he was to drive back for her.

" Well, I think I must be mad," he swd; " what
am I to do with this coach and horses?"

So he put the horses up ag^n, and went along with
the others into the palace, and it was soon settled that
be should have the bride's sister, who had rolled the
apple over to him.

There sat the Mastermaid by the sea-shore, and
waited and waited for the Prince, but no Prince came ;
BO at last she went up &om ^e shore, and after Bhe had
. gone a bit she came to a little hut which lay by itself
in a copse close by the king's palace. She went in and
asked if she might lodge there. It was an old dame
tliat owned the hut, and a cross-grained scolding hag
she was as ever you saw. At first she would not hear of
the Mastermaid'e lodging in her house, but at last, for
fair words and high rent, the Mastermaid got leave to

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HABTEBUAID. 77

be there. Now the lint was as dark and dirty as a pigsty,
so the Mastermaid said she would sinarten it up a little,
that their house might look inside like other people's. The
old bag did not like this either, and showed her teeth, and
was cross ; bat the Mastermaid did not mind her. She
took her chest of gold, and threw a handful or so into
the fire, aud lo I the gold melted, and bubbled and
boiled over out of the grate, and spread itself over the
whole hut, till it was gilded both outside and in. But
as soon as the gold began to bubble and boil, the old
hag got BO afrud that she tried to nm out as if the Evil
One were at her heels ; and aa she ran out at the door,
she forgot to stoop, and gave her head such a knock
against the lintel, that she broke her neck, and that was
the end of her.

Next morning the Constable passed that way, and
you may iancy he could scarce believe his eyes when he
saw the golden hut shining and gltstenmg away ui the
copse ; but he was still more astonished when he went
in and saw the lovely maiden who sat there. To make
a long story short, he fell over head and ears in love
with her, and begged and prayed her to become his
wife.

"Well, bat have you much money?" asked the
Mastermaid.

Yes, for that matter, he said, he was not so badly

U.g.VK.yC00glc

78 NORSE TALES.

off, and off he went home to fetch the money, and when
he came back at even he brought a half-btiBhel sack,
and uet it down on the bench. So the Uastermaid
said she woald have him, since he was so rich ; but
they were scarce in bed before she said ahe most get
up again, —

" For I have forgotten to make up the fire,"

" Pray, don't stir out of bed," said the Constable ;
" I'll see to it."

So he jumped out of bed, and stood on the hearth
in a trice.

" As soon as you have got hold of the shoTel, just
tell me," said the Mastermaid.

" Well, I am holding it now," said the Constable.

Then the Mast«nnaid said, —

" G«d grant that yon may hold the shovel, and the
shovel you, and may you heap hot bumiug coals over
yonrself till morning breaks."

So there stood the Constable all night long, shovel-
ling hot bnrning coals over himself; and though be
begged, and prayed, and wept, the coals were not a bit
colder for that ; but as soon aa day broke, and he had
power to cast away the shovel, he did not stay long, as
you may fancy, but set off as if the Evil One or the
bailiff were at hb heels ; and all who met him stared
their eyes out at him, for he cut capers as though he were

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE KASTEBHAID. 79

mad, and he could uot have looked in worse plight if
he had been flayed and taDoed, and every one wondered
what had befallen him, but be told do one where he
had been, for shame's sake.

Next day the Attorney passed by the place where
the Mastermaid lived, and he too saw how it ebone and
glistened in the copse ; so he turned aside to And out
who owned the hut; and when he came in and saw the
lovely maiden he fell more in love with her than the
Constable, and began to woo her in hot haste.

Well, the Maetennaid asked him, as she had asked
the Constable, if he had a good lot of money ? and the
Attorney said he wasn't so badly off; and as a proof
he went home to fetch his money. So at even he came
back with a great fat sack of money — I think it was a
whole boshel sack — and set it down on tlie bench; and
the long and the short of the matter was, that he was
to have her, and they went to bed. But all at once the
Mastermaid had forgotten to shut the door of the porch,
and she most get up and make it fast for the night.

" What, you do that I " said the Attorney, " while I
lie here ; that can never be ; lie atilT, while X go and do it."

So up he jumped, like a pea on a drum-head, and
ran out into the porch.

" Tell me," said the Mastermaid, " when you have
hold of the door-latch."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

80 N0B8E TALES.

" I've got hold of it dow," said the Attorney.

" God graot, then," said the Mastennaid, " that
you may hold the door, and the door you, and that you
may go from wall to wall till day dawns."

So yon may fancy what a dance the Attorney had
all night long ; such a waltz he never had before, and
I don't think ho would much care if he never had auch
a waltz again. Now he polled the door forward, and
then the door pulled him back, and bo he went on,
now dashed into one corner of the porch, and now
into the other, till he was almost battered to death.
At first he began to curse and swear, and then to beg
and pray, but the door cared for nothing but holding
ite own till break of day. As soon as it let go its hold,
off set the Attorney, leaving behind him his money to
pay for his night's lodging, and forgetting his courtship
altogether, for to tell the truth, he was afraid lest the
bouseKloor should come dancing after him. All who
met him stared and gaped at him, for he too cut capers
like a madman, and he could not have looked in worse
plight if he had spent the whole night in butting against
a flock of nuns. '

The third day the Sheiiff passed that way, and he
too saw the golden hut, and turned aside to find oat
who lived there ; uid he had scarce set eyes on the
Maetennaid, before he began to woo her. So she

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HABTERUAID. 81

answered him aa she had aaawered the other two. If
he had lots of money she would have him, if not, he
might go about his business. Well, the Sheriff Baid be
wasn't so badly off, and he would go home and fetch
the money, and when he came again at even, he had a
higger sack even than the Attorney — it must have been
at least a bushel and a half, and put it down on the
bench. So it was eoon settled that he was to have the
Mastermaid, but they had scarce gone to - bed before
the Mastermaid said she had forgotten to bring home
the calf Irom the meadow, so she must get up and drive
him into the stall. Then the Sheriff swore by all the
powers that should never be, and stout and fat ae he
was, up he jumped as nimbly as a kitten.

" Well, only tell me when you've got hold of the
calfs tail," said the Mastennaid.

" Now I have hold of it," siud the Sheriff.

" God grant," eaii the Mastermaid, " that you may
hold the calfs tail, and the calfs tail you, and that you
may make a tour of the world together tiil day dawns."

Well you may just fancy how the Sheriff had to
stretch his legs ; away they went, the calf and he, over
high and low, across hill and dale, and the more the
Sheriff catsed and swore, the faster the calf ran and
jumped. At dawn of day the poor Sheriff was well
nigh broken-winded, and. bo glad was he to let go the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

82 MORSE TALES.

cairs tail, that he forgot his sack of money and every-
thing else. As he was a great man, he went a little
slower than the Attorney and die Constable, but the
slower he went the more time people had to gape and
stare at him ; and I must sa; Uiey made good use of
their time, for he was terribly tattered and torn, after
bis dance with the calf.

Next day was fixed for the wedding at the palace,
and the eldest brother was to drive to church with bis
bride, and the younger, who had lived with the Giant,
with the bride's sister. But when they had got into
the coach, and were just going to drive off, one of the
trace-pius snapped off; and though they made at least
thr«e in its place, they all broke, fixim whatever sort of
wood they were made. So time went on and on, and
they couldn't get to church, and every one grew very
downcast But all at once tiie Constable said, for he
too was bidden to the wedding, that yonder away in
the copse lived a maiden.

" And if yoii can only get her to lend you the
handle of her shovel with which she makes up her fire,
I know very well it will hold,"

Well I they sent a messenger on the spot, with
such a pretty meBsage to the maiden, to know if they
couldn't get the loan of her shovel which the Constable
had spoken of; and the maiden said " yes," they might

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE 1IA8TER1U.ID. 83

have it; 80 they got a trace-pin which waBu't likely to
snap.

But all at once, just as tiiey were driving off, the
bottom of the coach tumbled to bita. So they aet to
work to make a new bottom as they best might ; but it
mattered not how many uailfi they put into it, nor of
what wood they made it, for as soon as ever they got
the bottom well into the coach and were driving off,
map it went in two agun, and they were even worse
off than when they lost the trace-pin. Joet then the
Attorney said — ^for if the Constable wa8 there, you may
fancy the Attorney was there too — " Away yonder, in
the cofffie, lives a maiden, and if you could only get her
to lend yon one-half of her porch-door, I know it can
hold together."

Well, they sent another message to the copse, and
asked so prettily if they couldn't have the loan of the
gilded porch-door which the Attorney had talked of;
and they got it on the spot. So they were just setting
out ; but now the horses were not strong enough to draw
the coach, though there were six of them ; then they
put on eight, and ten, and twelve, but the more they
pot on, and the more the coachman whipped, the more
tiie coach wouldn't stir an inch. By this time it was
far on in the day, and every one about the palace was
in doleful dumps ; for to church they must go, and yet

U.g.VK.yC00glc

84 KO&SS TAL£8.

it looked as if they should Dever get there. So at last
the Sheriff said, that yonder in the ^ded hut, in the
copoe, lived a maiden, and if they could only get the
loaii of her calf, —

" I know it can drag the coach, though it were as
heavy as a mountain."

Well, they all thought it would look dlly to be
drawn to church by a calf, hut there was no help for it,
BO they had to send a third time, and ask bo prettily in
the King's name, if he couldn't get the loan of Uie ualf
the Sheriff had spoken of, and the Mastermaid let them
have it on the spot, for she was not going to say " no "
this time either. So they put the calf on before the
horses, and waited to see if it would do any good, and
away went the coach over high and low, and stock and
stone, BO that they could scarce draw their breath;
sometimes they were on the gronnd, and sometimes up
in the air, and when they reached the church, the calf
began to run round and round it like a spinning jenny,
so that they had hard work to get out of the coach,
and into the church. When they went back, it was
the same story, only they went faster, and they reached
the palace ahnost before they knew they had set out.

Now when they sat down to dinner, the Prince
who had served with the G-iant said he thought they
ought to ask the maiden who bad lent them her shovel-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THK UASTEBUAIU. 85

handle and poruh-door, and calf, to come ap to the
palace.

" For," Baid he, " if we hadn't got these three
things, we should have been sticking here still."

Yes ; the King thought that only fair and right, so
he sent five of his best men down to the gilded hut to
greet the maiden from the King, and to ask her if she
wouldn't lie bo good as to come op and dine at the palace.

"Greet the King from me," said the MasKrmaid,
" and tell him, if he 's too good to come to me, so am I
too good to go to him."

So the King had to go himself, and then the Master-
maid went up with him without more ado ; and as the
King thought she was more tiian she seemed to be, he
sat her down in the high seat by the side of the youngest
bridegroom.

Now, when they had sat a little while at table, the
Mastermaid took out her golden apple, and the golden
cock and hen, which she had carried off from the Giant,
and put them down on the table before her, and the
cock and hen began at once to peck at one another, and
to fight for the golden apple."

" Oh I only look," said the Prince ; " see how those
two strive for the apple."

" Yes 1 " said the Mastermaid ; " so we two strove to
get away that time when we were together in the hillside."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

86 HOBSE TALES.

Then the epell was broken, and the Prince knew
her again, and yon may fancy how glad be was. But
as for the witch wbo had rolled the ^ple over to him,
he had her torn to pieces between twenty-four botBes,
so that there was not a bit of her left, and after tbat
they held on with the wedding in real earnest; and
though they were still stiff and footsore, the Constable,
the Attorney, and the Sheriff, kept it up wiUi the best
oftbem. ^

.yCOOgIC

THE CAT ON THE DOVREFELL.

riNCE on a time there was a man np in Finnmark
who bad caught a great white bear, which he was
going to take to the king of Denmark. Now, it so fell
oat, that he caino to the Dovrefell jnat about Christmaa
Etc, and there be turned into a cottage where a man
lived, whose name was Halvor, and asked the man if be
coold get house-room there, for his bear and himself.

" Heaven never help me, if what I say isn't true !"
said the man ; " but we can't give any one house-room
just now, for every ChriBtmae Eve such a pack of Trolls
come down upon m, that we are forced to flit, and have n't
so much as a house over our own beads, to say nothing
of lending one to any one else."

"Oh I" said the man, " if that's all, you can very
well lend me your house ; my bear can lie under the
Btove yonder, and I can sleep in the side-room."

Well, be begged so bard,.that at last be got leave
to stay there ; so the people of the house flitted out, and
before they went, everything was got ready for the Trolls ;
the tables were laid, and there was rice porridge, and fish
boiled in lye, and sausages, and all else that was good,
just as for any other grand feast.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

88 M0B8I! TALES.

So, when everything was ready, down came the
Trolls. Some were great, and some were small ; some
had loDg tails, and some had no tails at all ; some, too,
had long, long noses ; aud they ate and drank, and tasted
everything. Just, then, one of the Uttle Trolls caught
sight of the white bear, who lay under the stove ; so be
took a piet^ of sausage and stuck it on a fork, aud went
and poked it up against the bear's nose, screaming out —
" Pussy, will you have some sausage ?"
Then the white bear rose up and growled, and hunted
the whole pack of them out of doors, both great and small.
Next year Halvor was out in the wood, on the after-
noon of Christmas Eve, cutting wood before the holi-
days, for he thought the Trolls would come again ; and
just as he was hard at work, be heard a voice in the
wood calling out, —
" Halvor, Halvor !"
" Well," said Halvor, " here I am."
" Have you got your big cat with you still ?"
" Yes, liat I have," said Halvor; " she's lying at
home under the stove, and what's more, siie has now got
seven kittens, far bigger and fiercer than she is herself."
''Oh, then, we'll never come to see you again,"
bawled out the Troll away in the wood, and he kept his
word ; for since that time tbe Trolls have never eaten
their Christmas brose with Halvor on the Dovrefell,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

PRINCESS ON THE GLASS HILL.

/~hNCE on a time there was a man who had a meadow,
which lay high up on the hill-side, and in the
meadow was a bam, which he bad built to keep hia
ha; in. Now, I muet teU you, there hadn't been much
in the bam for the last year or two, for every St,
John's night, when the grass stood greenest and deepest,
the meadow was eaten down to the very ground the
nezt morning, just as if a whole drove of sheep had
been there feeding on it over night. This happened
once, and it happened twice ; so at last the man grew
weary of losing his crop of hay, and stwd to his bodb —
for he had three of them, and the youngest was nick-
named Boots, of course — that now one of them muet
just go and sleep in the bam in the outlying field wlun
St. John's night came, for it was too good a jobe that
his grass should be eaten, root and blade, this year, as
it had been the last two years. So whichever of them
went must keep a sharp look-out ; that was what their
father said.

Well, the eldest son was ready to go and watch the
meadow; trust him for looking after the grass! It
E ^

U.g.VK.yC00glc

90 MOlteS TALES.

shouldn't be Ua fault if man or beast, or the Rend him-
self, got a blade of grass. So, when evening came, he
set off to the bam, and lay down to sleep ; but a little
on iu the night came such a clatter, and such an earth-
quake, that walls and roof shook, and groaned, and
creaked ; then up jumped the lad, and took to his heels
as fast as ever he could ; nor dared he once look round
till he reached home ; and as for the hay, why it was
eaten up this year just as it had been twice before.

The next St. John's night, the man said agun it
would never do to lose all the grass in tjie outlying
field year after year in this way, so one of his sons must
just trudge off to watch it, and watch it well too. Well,
the nest oldest son was ready to try his luck, so he set
off, and lay down to sleep in the bam as bis brother
iiad done before him ; but as the night wore on, Uiere
came on a rumbling and quaking of the earth, worse
even than on the last St. John's night, and when the
lad heard it, he got frightened, and took to his heels as
though he were running a race-
Next year tlie turn came to Boots ; but when he
made ready to go, the other two began to laugh and to
make game of him, saying, —

" You're just the man to watch the hay, that you
are ; yon, who have done nothing all your life but sit
in the ashes and toast yourself by the fire."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TBS PR1NCB86 O? THE GLASS HILL. 91

But Boots did not care a pin for their cbatt«ring,
uid Btumped away as eveniug drew on up the hill-side
to the outlying field. There he went inside the bam
and lay down ; but in about an hour's time the bam
began to groan and creak, bo that it was dreadful to
hear.

" WelJ," aaid Boots to himself, " if it isn't worse
than this, I can stand it well enough."

A little while after came another creak and an
earthquake, so that the litter in the farm flew about the
lad's eaxe.

" Oh !" said Boots to himaelF, " if it isn't worse than
this, I daresay I can stand it out."

But just then earner a third rumbling, and a third
earthquake, so that the lad thought walls and roof
were coming down on his bead ; but it passed off, and
all was Btill as death about him.

" It'll come again, I'll be bonnd," thought Boots;
but no, it didn't come again; still it was, and still it
stayed ; but after be had lain a little while, he heard a
noise as if a horse were standing just outside the barn-
door, and feeding on the grass. He stole to the door,
and peeped through a chink, and there stood a burse
feeding away. So big, and faX, and grand a horse.
Boots had never set eyes on ; by his side on the grass
lay a saddle and bridle, and a full set of armour for a

U.g.VK.yC00glc

92 KOBSB TALBB.

knigbt, ftll of brass, so bright that the light gleamed
from it.

" Ho, hoi" flioiight the lad; "it's yon, Ja it, that
eats ap onr hay ? I'll soon put a spoke m your wheel,
just see if I don't."

So he lost no time, but took the steel out of his
tinder-boz, and threw it over the hone ; then it bad no
power to stir &om the spot, and becwne so tame that
Uke lad could do what .he liked with it. So he got
on its back, and rode off with it to a pUce which no
one knew of, and there he put up the horse. When he
got home, bis brothers laughed and asked how he had
iared?

" You didn't lie long in the bam, even if you had
the heart to go so far as the field."

" Well," said Boots, " all I can say is, I lay in the
bam till the son rose, and neither saw nor heard any-
thing; I can't think what there was in the bam to
make you both so afraid."

" A pretty story," said bin brothers ; " but we '11
soon see how yon have watched the meadow;" so they
set off; but when they reached it, there stood the grass
as deep and thick as it had been over night.

Well, the next St. John's eve it was the same story
over again ; neither of the elder brothers dared to go oat
to the ontlying field to watch the crop ; but Boots, he had

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE PBIHCEBB OTS THE GLASS HILL. 93

the heart to go, and everything happened jnflt as it had
happened the year before. First a clatter and an earth-
quake, then a greater clatter and another earthquake,
and BO on a third time ; only this year the earthquakes
were far worse than the year before. Then all at once
everything was as still as death, and the lad heard how
Eomething was cropping the grass outside die barn-door,
so he stole to the door, and peeped throngh a chink;
and what do you think he saw? why, another horse
standing right ap against the wall, and chewing and
champing with might and main. It was far finer and
fatter than that which came the year before, and it had
a saddle on its back, and a bridle on its neck, and a Aill
suit of mail for a knight lay by its side, all of silver, and
as splendid as you would wish to see.

" Ho, ho!" said Boots to himself; "it's you that
gobbles tip our hay, is it? I'll soon put a spoke in your
wheel ; and with that he took the steel out of his tinder-
box, and threw it over the horse's crest, which stood as
still as a Iamb. Well, the lad rode this horse too
to the hiding-place where he kept the other one, and
after that he went home.

" I suppose yoa'II tell us," said one of his brothers,
" there's a fine crop this year too, up in the hayfield."

" Well, BO there is," said Boot« ; and off ran the
others to see, and &ere stood the grass thick and deep,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

94 SOHBE TALES.

aa it was the ;ear before ; but they didn't give Boots
softer words for all that.

Now, when the third St John's eve came, the two
elder still hadn't the heart to lie oat in the bam and
watch the grass, for they had got so scared at heart the
oight they lay there before, that they couldn't get over the
fright ; but Boots, he dared to go ; and, to make a long
story short, the very same thing happened this time as
had happened twice before. Three earthquakes came,
one afiier the other, each worse than the one which went
before, and when the last came, the lad danced about
with the shock from one bam wall to the other ; and
after that, all at once, it was still as death. Kow, when
he had lain a little while, he heard something tngpng
away at the grass outside the bant, so he stole again
to the door-chink, and peeped out, and there stood a
horse close outside — far, far bigger and &tter than the
two he had taken before.

" Ho, ho I" said the lad tA himself, " it's you, is it,
that comes here eating up our hay ? I 'U soon stop
that — I'll soon put a spoke in your wheel." So he
caught op his steel and threw it over the horse's neck,
and in a trice it stood as if it were nailed to the ground,
and Boots could do as he pleased with it Then he
rode off with it to the hiding, where he kept the other
two, and then went home. When he got home, his two

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE PRINCEG8 OF THE QLAGS BILL. 95

brothers made game of turn as they had doae before,
saying, they could see he had watched the grass well,
for he looked for all the world as if he were walking in
his sleep, and many other spiteful things they said, but
Boots gave no heed to them, only asking them to go
and see for themselves ; and when they went, there
stood the grass as fine and deep tliis time as it bad been
twice before.

Now, you must know that the king of the country
where Boots lived had a daughter, whom he would only
give to the man who could ride up over the hill of glass,
for there was a high, high hill, all of glass, as smootli
and slippery as ice, close by the king's palace. Upon
the tip top of the bill the king's daughter was to sit,
with three golden apples m her lap, and the man who
could ride up and carry off the three golden apples, was
to have half the kingdom, taii the Princess to wife.
This the king had stuck up on all the church-doors in his
Ktim, and had given it out in man; other kingdoms
besides. Now, this Princess was so lovely, that all who
set eyes on her, fell over bead and ears in love with ber,
whether they would or no. So I needn't tell you bow
all the princes and knights who heard of her were
eager to win ber to wife, and half the kingdom beside ;
tuid how they came riding from all parts of the world on
high prancing horses, and clad in the grandest clothes,

.yCOOgIC

96 N0B8E TALES.

for there wasn't ooe of them who hadn't made up his
mind that he, and he alone, was to win the Princess.

So when the day of trial came, which the king had
fixed, there was such a crowd of princea and knighta
under the glass hill, that it made one's head whirt
to look at them ; and every one in the country who
coald even crawl along was ofT to the bill, for they all
were eager to see the man who was to win the Prin-
ceBB. So the two elder brothers set ofiF with the rest ;
but as for Boots, they sfud outright he shouldn't go wiUi
them, for if they were seen with such a dirty change-
ling, all begrimed with amut irom cleaning their shoes
and sifting cinders in the dust-hole, they said folk
would make game of them,

" Very well," said Boots ; " it's all one to me. I
can go alone, and stand or fall by myself."

Now when the two brothers ctaae to the hill of
glass, the knights and princes were all hard at it, riding
their horses till they were all in a foam ; but it was no
good, by my troth ; for as soon as ever the horses set
foot OD the bill, down they slipped, and there wasn't
one who could get a yard or two up ; and no wonder,
for the bill was as smooth as a sheet of glass, and as
steep as a bonse^wall. Bnt all were eager to have the
Princess and half the kingdom. So they rode and
slipped, and slipped and rode, and still it was the same

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE P&IMCBS8 ON TBI GLASS HILL 97

stoiy over again. At last all their horses were so
weary that they coald scarce lift a leg, and in such a
sweat that the lather dripped from them, and so the
knights had to give up trying any more. So the king
was just thinking that he would proclwm a new trial for
the next day, to see if they would have better lack,
when all at once a knight came riding up on so brave
a steed, that no one had ever sees the like of it in hie
bom days, and the knight had mail of brass, and
the hoTse a brass bit in his mouth, so bright that the
smibeams shone &om it Then all the othera called
out to him he might just as well spare himself the
trouble of riding at the hill, for it would lead to do
good ; but he gave no heed to them, and put his horse
at the hill, and went up it like nothing for a good way,
about a third of the height ; and when he had got so
far, he turned his horse roimd and rode down agiun. So
lovely a knight the FrinceBs thought she had never yet
seen ; and while he was riding, she sat and thought to
herself —

" Would to heaven he might only come up and down
the other side,"

And when she saw him taming back, she threw

down one of the golden apples after him, and it rolled

down into his shoe. But when he got to the bottom of

the hill he rode off so fast that no one could tell what

r

U.g.VK.yC00glc

98 NOKSB TALKS.

had become of him. That evening all the knights and
princes were to go before the king, that he who had
ridden so far up the hill might ahow the apple which the
princeBG had thrown, but there was no one who had any-
thing to show. One after the otiier they all came, hot
not a man of them could show the apple.

At even the brothers uf Boots came home too, and
liad such a long story to tell about the riding up the
hill.

" First of all," they said, " there was not one of the
whole lot who could get so much as a stride up ; but
at last came one who had a suit of brass mail, and a
brass bridle and saddle, all so bright th^t the sun shone
from them a mile off. He was a chap to ride, just !
He rode a third of the way up the hill of gkss, and he
could eamly have ridden the whole way up, if he chose;
but he turned round and rode down, thinking, maybe,
that was enough for once."

" Oh I 1 should so like to have seen him, that I
should," said Boots, who sat by the fireside, and stack
his feet into the cinders, as was his wont.

" Oh I " said his brothers, " you would, would yon ?
You look fit to keep company with such high lords,
nasty beast that yon are, sitting there amongst the
iishes,"

Next day the brothers were all for setting off again,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TH£ PBINCEBB ON THE QLASa HILL. 99

uid Boots be^ed them this time, toe, to let him go
with them and see the riding; but do, they TFOuldD't
have him at any price, he was too ugly and naaty, they
said.

" Well, welll " said Boota ; " if T go at all, I mast
go by myself. I'm not afnud,"

So when the brotbere got to ^e hill of glass, all the
princes and knights began to ride ag^, and yon may
iancy they had taken care to shoe their borses sharp ;
bat it was no good, — they rode and slipped, and slipped
and rode, just as they had done the day before, and
there was not one who could get so far as a yard np
the hill And when they had worn out their horses,
so that they could not stir a leg, they were all forced
to ^ve it up as a bad job. So the king thought he
might as well proclaim that the riding should take place
the day after for the last time, just to give them one
chance more ; bat alt at once it came across his mind
that he might as well wait a little longer, to see if
the knight in brass mail would come this day too.
Well ! they saw nothing of liim ; but all at once came
one riding on a steed, far, far braver and finer than that
on ybich the knight in brass had ridden, and he had
silver mail, and a silver saddle and bridle, all so bright
that the sunbeams gleamed and glanced from them far
away. Then the others shouted out to him again, say-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

100 HORSE TALIS.

ing, he might as well hold hard, and not try to ride ap
the hill, for all his trouble would be thrown away ; but
the knight paid no heed to them, and rode stnu^t at
the hill, and right up it, till he had gone two-thirds of
the way, and then he wheeled his horse round and rode
down sgaio. To tell the truth, the Princess liked him
still better than the knight in brass, and she sat and
wished he might only he able to come right up to the
top, and down the other side ; but when she saw him
turning back, she throw the second apple after him, and
it rolled down and fell into his shoe. But as soon aa
ever be had come down from the hill of gUiss, he rode
off so fast that no one could see what became of him.

At even, when all were to go in before the king
and the PrincesB, that he who had the golden applfs
might show it ; in they went, one after the other, bat
there was no one who had any apple to show, and the
two brothers, as they had done on the former day, went
home and told how things had gone, and how all had
ridden at the hill, and none got up.

" But, last of all," they said, " came one in a silrer
suit, and his horse had a silver saddle and a silver
bridle. He was just a chap to ride ; and he got two-
thirds up the hill, and then tamed back. He was a fine
fellow, and no mistake ; and the Princess threw tlie
second gold apple to him."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THB PBIH0188 ON THK OLA88 BILL. 101

" Oh ! '* Baid Boots, " I should so like to have seen
him too, that I ehould."

" A pretty story," they said. " Perhaps yoo thiok
his cost of mail was as bright as the ashes you are
always poking about and sifting, you nasty dirty beast."

The third day eTerything happened as it had hap-
pened the two days before. Boots begged to go and
see the sight, bat the two wouldn't hear of his going
with them. When they got to the hill there was no
one who could get so much as a yard up it ; and now
all wuted for the knight in silver mul, but they neither
saw nor heard of him. At last came one riding on a
steed, so brave that no one had ever seen his match ;
and the knight had a suit of golden mail, and a golden
saddle and bridle, so wondrous bright that the sun-
beams gleamed from them a mile off. The other
knighta and princes could not find time to call out to
him not to try his luck, for they were amazed to m^e
how grand he was. So he rode right at the hill, and
tore up it like nothing, so that the Princess hadn't even
time to wish that he might get up the whole way. As
soon as ever he reached the top, he took the third
golden apple from the Priucoss's lap, and then turned
bis horse and rode down agam. As soon as he got
down, he rode off at full speed, and was out of sight in
no time.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

102 KOHSS TALES.

Now, wheB the brotherx got home at even, you may
fiwcy what long stories they told, how the riding had
gone off that day ; and amongst other things, they had a
deal to say about the knight in golden mail.

" He juat was a chap to ride!" tbey said ; so grand
a knight isn't to be found in the wide world."

" Oh !" said Boots, " I should so like to have seen
him ; that I should."

" Ah t" BEud his brothers, " his mful shone a deal
brighter than the glowing coals which you aie always
poking and digging at ; nasty dirty beast that yon
are."

Next day all the knighta and princes were to pass
before the king and the Princess — it was too late to do
so die night before, I suppose — ^that he who had the gold
apple might bring it forth ; but one-came after another,
first the princes, and then the knights, and siill no one
could show the gold apple.

" Well," said the king, " some one must have it,
for it was something that we all saw with our own eyes,
how a man came and rode up and bore it oC"

So he commanded that everyone who was in the king*
dom should come up to &e palace and see if they could
show the apple. Well, they all came one after uiotber,
bat no one had the golden apple, and after a long time
the two brothers of Boots came. They were the last of

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE FKIIICB3S ON THS QLABS HILL. 103

all, SO the king aaked them if there was no one else in
the kingdom who had n't come.

" Oh, yea," said they ; " we haye a brother, but he
never carried off the golden apple. He hasn't stirred
out of the dustbole on any of the three days."

" Never mind that," said the king ; " he may ae well
come up to the palace like the rest"

So Boots bad to go up to the palace.

" How, now," said the king ; " have you got the
golden apple ? Speak out I "

" Yes, 1 have," said Boots ; " here is the firet,
and here is the second, and here is the third too;" and
with that he pulled all three golden apples out of hJH
pocket, and at the same time threw off his sooty rags,
and stood before them in hie gleaming golden mail.

" Yes t " said - the king ; " you shall have my
daughter, and half my kingdom, for you well deserve
both her and it."

So they got ready for the wedding, and Boots got
the Princess to wife, and there was great merry-making
at the bridal-feast, you may fancy, for they could all be
merry though they couldn't ride up the hill of glass;
and all I can say is, if they haven't left off their raerr}--
making yet, why, tiiey're still at it

.yCOOgIC

HOW ONE WENT OUT TO WOO.

i~iNCE on a time there was a lad who went oat to
woo him a wife. Amongst other places, he came
to a farm-hoase, where the household were little better
than beggars ; bat when the wooer came in, they wanted
to make out that they were well to do, as you may
gneSB. Now the husband had got a new arm to his
coat.

" Pray, take a seat," he said to the wooer ; " but
there's a shocking dust in the house."

So he went abont rubbing and wiping all the
benches and tables with his new arm, but he kept the
other all the while behind his back.

The wife she had got one new shoe, and she went
stamping and sliding with it up against the stools and
chairs, saying, " How untidy it is here ! Everything
is out of its place I "

Then they called oat to then- daughter to come
down and put things to rights ; but the daughter, she
had got a new cap ; so she put her head in at the door,
and kept nodding and nodding, first to this side, and
then to that.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

HOW OSI WEHT OUT TO WOO. 106

" Well I for my part," she said, " I can't be every-
where at once."

Aye I aye! that wm a well-to-do boosehold the
wooer had come to.

THE COCK AND HEN.
[Is this tale the notes of the Cook and Hen mnet be imitated.]

Ben — " Yon promise me shoes year after year, year
after year, and yet I get do shoes I "

Cock — " You shall have them, never fear I Henny
penny I "

Een~" I ky egg after egg, egg after egg, and yet
I go about barefoot 1 "

Cock — " Well, take your eggs, and be off to the
tzyst, and bay yourself shoes, and don't go any longer
barefoot!"

.yCOOgIC

THE MASTER-SMITH.

/^NCE on a time, in the days when our Lord and St.
Peter used to wander on earth, they came to a
smith's house. He had made a bargain with the devil,
that the devil shoald have him after seven years,
but during that time he was to be the master of all
masters in his trade, and to Uiis bargun both he and
the devU had signed their names. So he had stuck
up in great letters over the door of his foi^,—

" .fiere dwells the Master over ail Maaio'a.''

Kow when our Lord passed by and saw that, he
went in.

"Who are you?" he sud to the Snuth.

" Read what's written over the door," said the
Smith ; " but maybe you can't read writing. If so,
you must wait till some one comes to help you."

Before our Lord had time to answer him, a man
came with Us horse, which he begged the SmiUi to
shoe.

" Might I have leave to shoe it ?" asked our Lord.

" You may try, if you like," said the Smith ; " you
can't do it so badly that I shall not be able to make it
ri^t again."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HASTSB-BHITH. 1U7

So our Lord went oat aad took one leg off the horse,
and laid it in the famace, and made the ahoe red-hot ;
af^r that, he turned up the enda of the shoe, and filed
down the heads of the nailfl, and clenched th« pointe ;
and then he put back the leg safe and sotmd on the
horse again. And when be was done with that leg, he
took the other fore-leg and did the same with it ; and
when he was done with that, he took the hind-legs —
first, the off, and then the near leg, and laid them in the
furnace, making the shoes red-hot, turning up the ends,
filing the beads of the nails, and clenching the points ;
and after all was done, putting the legs on the horse
again. All the while, the Smith stood by and looked on.

"You're not so bads smith after all," said he.

" Oh, you think so, do you ?" said our Lord.

A little whQe after came the Smith's mother to the
forge, and called him to come home and eat his dinner ;
she was an old, old woman with an ugly crook on her
bacb, and wrinkles in her face, and it was as much as she
could do to cr&wl along.

" Mark now, what yon see," said our Lord.

Then he took the womui and laid her in the fur-
nace, and smithied a lovely young maiden out of her.

" Well," SMd the Smith, " I say now, as 1 said
before, you are not such a bad smith after all. There
it stands over my door, ffere dwellt ike Master over

U.g.VK.yC00glc

108 H0B8B TALES.

tJl Maatersf but for all that, I Bay right ont, one leama
as long as one liveB ;" and with that he walked off to hta
honae and at« bis dinner.

So after dinner, jnst after be bad got back to his
forge, a man came riding up to have hia horBe Bhod.

" It shall be done in tbe twinkling of an eye," said
the Smith, " for I have just learnt a new way to shoe ;
and a very good way it is when the days are short."

So be began to cut and hack till be had got ^1 tiie
borses' legs off, for be said, I do n't know why one should
go pottering backwards and forwards — first, with one
leg, and then with another."

Then he laid tbe legs in the furnace, juBt as he had
seen our Lord lay them, and threw on a great heap of
coal, and made bis mates work the bellows bravely ; but
it went as one might suppose it would go. The legs
were burnt to ashes, and the Smith bad to pay for tbe
horse.

Welt, be didn't care much about that, bnt just tlien
an old beggar-woman came along the road, and he
thought to himself, " better luck next time ;" so he took
tbe old dame and bad her in the furnace, and though
she begged and prayed bard for her life, it was no
good.

" You're so old, you don't know what is good for
you," said the Smith ; " now yon shall be a lovely young

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE MA8TEB-BH1TE. 109

nuuden in half do time, and for all that, I '11 not charge
you a penny for ike job."

But it went no better with the poor old woman
than with the horaea' legs.

" That wae ill done, and I say it," sud oar Lord.

" Ob I for that matter," eaid the Smith, "there's not
many who'll ask after her, I'll be bound; but it's a
flhame of the Devil, if this ifl the way he holds to
what is written up over the door,"

" If you might have three wishes irom me," said our
Lord, " what would you wish for ?"

" Only try me," etad the Smith, " and you'll soon
know."

So our Lord gave bim three wishes.

" Well," said the Smith, " first and foremost, I wish
that any one whom I ask to climb up into the peai^tree
that stands outside by the wall of my forge, may stay
sitting there till I ask him to come down agun. The
second wish I wish is, that any one whom I aak to nt
down in my easy chair which stands inside the workshop
yonder, may stay sitting there till I ask him to get up.
Last o{ all, I wish that any one whom I ask to creep
into the steel purse which I have in my pocket, may
stay in it till 1 give him leave to creep out again."

" You have wished as a wicked man," said St. Peter ;
first and foremost, you should have wished for God's
grace and goodwilL"

U.g.VK.yC00glc

UO H0B8E TALES.

" I dunto't look so high aa that," said the Smith ;
and after that our Lord and St. Pet«r bade him " good
bye," and went on their way.

Well, the years went on and on, and when the time
was up, the Devil came to fetch the Smith, as it was
written in their bargain.

" Are you ready ?" he said, as he atuck Iiis nose in
at the door of the forge.

" Oh," said the Smith, " I mnet juat htunmer the
head of this tenpenny nail first ; in the meantime, you
can just climb up into the pear-tree and pluck yourself a
pear to gnaw at ; you must be both hungry and thirsty
after your journey."

So the Devil thanked him for his kind offer, and
climbed up into the pear-tree.

" Very good," said the Smith ; " but now, on think-
ing the matter over, I find I shall never be able to
have done hammenug the head of this nail till four
years are out at least, this iron is so plaguy hard ;
down you can't come in all that time, but may sit
up there and rest your bones,"

When the Devil heard this, he begged and prayed
till his voice was as thin as a silver penny that be
might have leave to come down ; but there was no help
for it. There he was, and there he must stay- At
last he had to give his word of honour not to come again

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THB HABTRB-8H1TH. Ill

tin four years were out, which the Smith had spoken of,
and then the Smith stud, " Very well, now you may
come down,"

So when the time was np, the DeTil came again to
fetch the Smith.

" Tou 're ready now, of conrBe," eaid he ; " yon 've
had time enough to hammer the head of that nail, I
shooH think."

" Yes, the bead is right enough now," said the Smith ;
" but still you have come a little tiny bit too soon, for I
haven't quite done sharpening the point ; such hard iron
I never hammered in all my bom days. So while I
work at the point, you may just as well sit down in my
easy chair and rest yourself; I'll be boimd you're weary
after coming so far."

" Thank you kindly," said the Devil, and down he
plumped into the easy chair ; hut just as he had made
himself comfortable, the Smith said, on second thoughts,
he found he couldn't get the point sharp till four yearB
were ont. First of all, the Devil begged so prettily to
be let out of the chair, and afterwards, waxing wroth,
he began to threaten and scold ; but the Smith kept
on, all the while excusing himself, and saying it was all
the iron's fault, it was so plaguy hard, and telling the
Devil he was not so badly off to have to sit quietly in
an easy chair, and that he would let him out to the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

112 SORBS TALES.

minote when the four years were over. Well, at last
there was do help for it, and the Devil had to give his
word of honour not to fetch the Smith till the fbur years
were out ; and then the Smith said, —

" Weil now, you may get up and be off about your
business," and away went the Devil aa fast as he could
lay legs to the ground.

When the four years were over, the Devil came
again to fetch the SmiUi, and he called out, as be stuck
his nose in at the door of the forge, —
" Now, I know yon must be ready."
" Keady, aye, ready," answered the Smith ; " we
can go now as soon aa you please ; bat hark ye, there
is one thing I have stood here and thought, and thought,
I would ask you to tell me. Is it true what people say,
that the Devil can make himself as small as he pleases ?"
" God knows, it is the very truth," said the
Devil.

"Oh!" said the Smith; " it u tme, is it? then I
wish you would just be so good as to creep into this
steel-purse of mine, and see whether it is sound at the
bottom, for to tell you the truth, I 'm afrud my travelling
money will drop out."

" With all my heart, said the Devil, who made him-
self small in a trice, and crept into the purse ; bat he
was scarce in when the Smith snipped to the clasp.

.yCOOgIC

TBB UASTEU-BUITH. 113

" Yes," called out the Devil inside the puree ; " it's
right and tight everywhere."

"Very good," said the Smith; "I'm glad to he«r
yoa say so, but 'more haste the worse speed,' saye
the old saw, and ' forewarned is forearmed,' says an-
other ; BO I 'II juBt weld these links a little together,
just for safety's sake ;" and with that he laid the purse
in the furnace, and made it red-hot.

" AU I AU I " screamed the Devil, " are you mad ?
don't yon know I'm inside the purse?"

*' Yes, I do I " Bfud the Smith ; " but I can't help
you, for another old saw says, ' one must strike while
the iron is hot ; ' " and as he said this, he took up his
sledge hammer, laid the purse on the anvil, and let fly
at it as hard as he could.

" AU I AU I AU I" bellowed the Devil, inside the
parse. " Dear friend, do let me out, and I'll never
come near you again."

" Very well t " said the Smith ; " now, I think, the
links are pretty well welded, and you may come out ;"
BO he unclasped the purse, and away went the Devil in
such a hurry that he didn't once look behind him.

Now, some time after, it came across the Smith's
mind that he had done a silly thing in making the
Devil his enemy, for, he said to himself, —

" If, as is like enough, they won't have me in the
f2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

114 KORSK TALIS.

kingdom of Heaven, I ehall be id dftnger of being house-
less, sinue iVe falleQ out with him who rules over
Hell."

So he made up hia mind it would be best to try to
get either into Hell or Heaven, and to try at once,
rather than to put it off any longer, so that he mi^t
know how matters really stood. Then he threw bis
sledge-hammer over bis shoulder and set off ; and when
he had gone a good bit of the way, be came to a place
where two roads met, and where tbe path to the king^
dom of Heaven parte from tbe path that leads to Hell,
and here he overtook a tailor, who was pelting along
with his goose in his hand.

" Good day," said the Smith ;" whither are you off
to?"

" To the kingdom of Heaven," said (iie TaiW, " if
I can only get into it ; " " but whither are you going
yourself? "

" Ob, our ways don't run together," sud the Smith ;
" for I have made up my mind to try first in Hell, as
tbe Devil and I know something of one another, from
old times."

So they bade one another " Good bye," and each
went his way ; but the Smith was a etout, strong man,
and got over the ground for faster than the tailor, and
80 it wasn't long before he stood at the gates of Hell.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE UASTER-SUITH. 115

Tbeu be called the watch, and bade him go and tell
the Devil there was some one outmde who winbed to
speak a word with him.

" Go out," said the Devil to the watcL, " and ask
hhu who he is ? " So that when the watch came and
told him that, the Smith ttUBwered, —

" Go and greet the Devil in my name, and Bay it i»
the Smith who owns the porse he wota of; and beg
him prettily to let me in at once, for I worked at
my forge till noon, fmd I have had a long walk
since." '

But when the Devil beard who it was, be charged
the watch to go bacb and lock up all the nine locks
on the gates of Hell

" And, besides," he said, " yon may as well put on
a padlock, for if he only once gete in, he'll turn Hell
topsy-turvy I"

" Well I " said the Smith to himself, when he saw
them busy bolting up the gat«8, " there's no lodging to
be got here, that's plain ; so I may as well try my luck
in the kingdom of Heaven;" and with that he turned
round and went back till he reached the crosE-roadK,
and then he went along the path the taUor had taken.
And now, as he was cross at having gone backwards
and forwards so far for no good, be strode along with
all bifi might, and reached the gate of Heaven just an

U.g.VK.yC00glc

116 HOBSB TAtSS.

St. Peter was opening it a veiy little, just enough to
let the half-starved tulor Blip in. The Smith was
still six or seven Btridee off the gate, bo he thought to
himself, " Now there 'e no time to be loet ;" and, grasp-
ing his Bledge-hammer, he hnried it into the opening of
the door just as the tfulor slunk in ; and if the Smith
didn't get in then, when the door was ajar, why I
don't know what has become of him.

.yCOOgIC

BUTTERCUP.

/^NCE on a time there waa an old wife who sat and
baked. Now, yoa moat know that this old wife
had a little son, who was so plump and fat, and ao fond
of good things, that they called him Buttercup ; she had
a dog, too, whose name was OoMtooth, and as she was
baking, all at once Ooldtooth began to bark.

" Run out. Buttercup, there's a dear 1" said the old
wife, " and see what Qoldtooth is barking at"

So the boy ran out, and came back crying out, —

'* Oh, Heaven help us I here comes a great big witch,
with her head under her ana, and a bag at her back."

" Jump under Uie kneading-trough and hide your-
self," said his mother.

So in came the old hag !

"Good day," said shel

" God bless yon I" said Buttercup's mother.

" Isn't your Buttercup at home to-day?" asked the
hag.

" No, that be isn't. He's out in the wood with his
&ther, shooting ptarmigan."

" Plague take it," said the hag, " for I had such a nice
little alver knife I wanted to give him."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

U8 NOBeK Tales.

" Pip, pip [ here I am," said Buttercup under the
kneading-trough, and out he came.

"I'm 80 old, and stiff in the back," sud the hag,
"youmust creep into the bag and fetch it out for yourself."

But when Buttercup was well into the bag, the bag
threw it over her back and strode off, and when they
had gone a good bit of the way, the old hag got
tired, and asked, —

" How iar ia it off to Snoring ?"

" Half a mile," sewered Buttercup.

So the hag put down the sack on the road and
went aside by herself into the wood, and lay down
to sleep. Meantime Buttercup set to work and cut
a bole in the sack with his knife ; then he crept out
and put a great root of a fir-tree into the sack, and
ran home to his mother.

When the bag got home and saw what there was
in the sack, you may fancy she was in a fine rage.

Next day the old wife sat and baked again, and her
dog began to bark just as he did the day before.

" Run out. Buttercup, my boy," said she, " and see
what Ooldtootb is barking at."

" Well, I never !" cried Buttercup, as soon as he got

out ; " if there isn't that ugly old beast coming again with

her head under her arm, and a great sack at her back."

" Under t^e kneading-tjough with you and hide,''

said his mother.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BDTTBBGTTF. 119

" Good day ! " said the hag, " is yoni Buttercap at
home to-day 7'

" I'm sorry to say beisD't," said his mother ; "he's
oat in the wood with his father shooting ptarmigan."

" What a bore," said the hag ; " here I have a beau-
tiful little silver spoon I want to give him."

" Pip, pip I here I am," said Buttercup, and crept
out.

"I'm so Btiffinthe back" said the old witch, "you
must raeep into the aack and fetch it out for yourself."

So when Buttercup was well into t^e sack, the hag
swung it over her Bboulders and set off home as fast as
her legs conld carry her. But when they had gone a
good bit, ahe grew weary, and asked, —

" How far is it off to Snoring?"

" A mile and a half," answered Buttercup.

So the hag net down the sack, and went aside into
the wood to sleep a bit, but while she slept, Buttercup
made a hole in the sack and got out, and put a great
Btone into it. Now, when the old witch got home, she
made a great Sre on the hearth, and put a big pot on
it, and got -everything ready to boil Buttercup ; but
when she took the sack, and thought she was going to
turn out Buttercup into the pot, down plumped the
stone and made a hole in the bottom of tiie pot, so that
the water ran out and quenched the fire. Then the old

.yCOOgIC

120 KOBSB TiLBB.

hag was in a dreadful rage, aod said, " If be makes him-
self ever so hesv; next time, he shan't take me in agwn."

The third day everything went just as it had gone
twice before ; Goldtooth began to bark, and Buttercup's
mother said to him, —

" Do run out and see what our dog ie barking at"

So ont he went, but be soon came back crying out, —

" Heaven save us I Here comes the old hag agun
with her head under her ann, and a sack at her back."

" Jump under the kneading-rtrough and hide," siud
his mother.

" Good day 1" stud the hag, as she came in at the
door; "is your Buttercup at home to-day ?"

You're very kind to ask after him," swd bis mother ;
"but he's out in the wood with his father shooting
ptarmigan."

" What a bore now," said the old bag ; " here have
I got such a beautiful little silTer fork for him."

*' Pip, pip I here I am," scud Buttercup, as be came
out &om under the kneading-trough.

"I'm BO stiff in the back," said the faag, "you
must creep into the sack and fetch it out for yourself."

But when Buttercup was well ioaide the sack, the
old bag swung it across her shoulders, and set off as
fast as she could. This time she did not turn aside to
sleep by the way, but went straight home with Butter-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BOTTEECUP. 121

cup iu the sack, and when she reached her house it was
Sunday.

So the old hag etad to her daughter, —

" Now you must take Buttercup and kill him, and
boil him nicely till I come back, for 1 'm off to church
to bid my guests to dinner."

So, when all in the house were gone to church, the
daughter was to take Buttercup and kill him, but then
she didn't know how to set about it at all.

" Stop a bit," said Buttercup ; "I'll soon show you
how to do it ; just lay your head on the chopping-block,
and you'll soon see."

So the poor silly thing lud her head down, and
Buttercup took an axe and chopped her head off, just
as if she had been a chicken. Then he laid her head
in the bed, and popped her body into the pot, and boiled
it 80 nicely ; and when he had done that, he climbed
up on the roof, and dragged up with him the fir-tree
root and the atone, and put the one over the door, and
the other at the top of the chimney.

So when the household came back &om church,
and saw the head on the bed, they thought it was the
daughter who lay there asleep ; and then they thought
they would just taste the broth.

" Good, by my troth !
ButtercDp btoth,''

Stud the old hag.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

H0B8E TALSS.

" Good, I9 nj troth I
Dftught«T bnth."

Baid Buttercup, but no one heeded bim.

So the old hag's husband, who was every bit as bad
as she, took the spoon to have a taste.
" Good, bj my troth !
Bnttercnp broth.''

tuud he.

" Good, by loj tn*h I
Dangbtar broth,''

said Buttercup down the chminey pipe.

Then they »31 began to wonder who it could be
that chattered so, and ran out to see. But when they
came out at the door. Buttercup tlirew down on them
the fir-tree root and the stone, and broke all their heads
to bits. After that he took aH the gold auA sUver that
lay in the house, and went home to lua moUier, and
became a rich man.

.yCOOgIC

TAMING THE SHREW.

/~^NCE on a time tJiere was a kiDg, sad be had a
danghter who was such a scold, and whose tongue
went 80 fitst, there was do utoppiiig it. So he gave
oatr that the mau who could stop her toogae should
have the PrinoesB to wife, and half his kingdom into
the bargain. Now, three brothers, who heard this,
made np their minds to go and try their luck ; and first
of all the two elder went, for they thought they were the
cleverest; but they couldn't cope with her at all, and
got well thrashed besides.

Then Boots, tbe youngest, set off, and when he had
gone a little way he found an ozier band lying on tbe
road, and he picked it up. When he had gone a little
farther he found a piece of a broken phite, and be picked
that Qp too. A little farther on he found a dead magpie,
and a little ferther on Btill, a crooked rani's horn ; so he
went on a bit and found the fellow to the bom ; and at
hiBt, just as he was crosBing the fields by the king's
palace, where they were pitching out dung, he found a
woru-out shoe-sole. AH these things be took with
him into ibe palace, and went before the Princess.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

124 NORSE TALES.

" Good day," said he.

" Good day," said she, and made a wry face.

" Can I get my magpie cooked here P" he asked.

" I'm afraid it will borst," answered the Princess.

''Oh[ never fear I for I'll jnst tie this ozier band
' round it," said tlie lad, aa he palled it out.

" The fet will run out of it," said the Princess.

" Then I'll hold this under it," said the lad, and
showed her the piece of broken plate.

" You are so crooked in your words," said the
Princess, " there's no knowing where to have you."

" No, I'm not crooked," swd the lad ; " but this is,"
as he held up one of the horns.

■'Well!" Sfud the Princess, "I never saw the
match of this in all my days."

" AVhy, here you see the match to it," said the
lad, as he pulled out the other ram's horn.

■' I think," said the Princess, " yoa mast have
come here to wear out my tongue with your non-
sense."

" No, I have not," said the lad ; " but this is
worn out," as he pulled out the shoe-sole.

To this the Princess hadn't a ward to say, for she
had fmrly lost her voice with rage.

" Now you are mine," s^d the lad ; and so he
jiTot the Princess to wife, and half the kingdom.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

SHOBTSHANKS.

i^NCE on & time, there was a poor couple who lived
in a tumble-down hot, in which there was nothmg
bat black want, bo that they had n't a morsel to eat,
nor a stick to bnm. But thongb they had next to
nothing of other things, they had God's blessing in
the way of children, and every year the; bad an-
other babe. Now, when this story begins, they were
just looking out for a new child ; and, to tell the
tmth, the husband was rather cross, and he was always
going about grumbling and growling, and saying, " For
his part, he thought one might have too many of these
God's gifts." So when the time came that the babe
was to be bom, he went off into the wood to fetcJi
fiiel, saying, "he didn't care to stop and see the
young squaller ; he'd be sure to hear him soon enough,
screaming for food."

Now, when her husband was well out of the house,
hia wife gave birth to a beautiful boy, who began to
look about the room as soon as ever he came into the
world.

" Oh 1 dear mother," he said, " give me some of

.yCOOgIC

126 SORBE TALES.

my brother's cast-off clothefl, and a few days' food, and
I 'U go out into the world and try my luck ; you have
children enough as it is, that I can see."

"God help you, my son I" answered his mother;
" that can never be, you are far too young yet."

But the &iy one stuck to what he said, tod be^ed
and prayed till hia mother was forced to let him have
a few old rags, and & little food tied up in a bundle,
and off he went right merrily and manfoBy into the vride
world. But he was scarce out of the houBe before his
mother had another boy, and he too looked about him,
and said —

" Oh, dear mother I give me some of my brother's
old clothes and a few days' food, and I'll go out into
the world to find my twin-brother ; you have children
enough ahready on your hands, that i can see."

" G^od help you, my poor little fellow I " said his
mother ; " you are far too little, this will never do."

But it waa no good ; the tiny one begged and
prayed so hard, till he got some old tattered rags aod
a bundle of food; and so he wandered out into the
world like a man, to find his twin-brother. Now, when
the younger had walked a while, he saw his brotiier a
good bit on before him, so he called out to him to atop,

" Holloa t can't you stop ? why, you lay legs to
the ground as if you were running a race. But you

U.g.VK.yC00glc

SBOBTeEANSS. 127

might joBt aa well have stayed ta aee your youogest
broUier before yon set off into the world in rach a
hnny."

3o the elder stopped and looked round ; and when
the yonnger had oome up to him and told him the
whole story, and how he was hie brother, he went on
to my, —

" But let's sit down here and see wbftt our mother
has ^ven ns for food." 80 they sat down together,
and were socm great fiiends.

Now when they had gone a bit farther on their
way, they come to a brook which ran Uirongb a green
meadow, and the yomigest scud now the time was come
to give one another names, " Since we set off in such
a hnny that we hadn't time to do it at home, we may
as weO do it here."

" Well ! " Bud the elder, " and what sh^ your
name be?"

" Oh 1" 8ud the yomiger, " my name shall be Short-
shanliB ; and yours, what shall it be ?"

"I will be called King Sturdy," answered the
eldest

So they christened each othor in the brook, and
went on ; bat when they had wf^ked a while they came
to a cross road, and agreed they should part there, and
each take his own road. So they parted, but they

.yCOOgIC

128 HOUSE TALKS.

hads't gone half-a-mile before their roads met again.
So they parted the second time, and toob each a road ;
but in a little while the same thing h^pened, and they
met agEun, they scarce knew how ; and the same thing
happened a third time also. Then they agreed tiiat
they should each choose a quarter of the heavens, and
one was to go east and the other west ; but before ^y
parted, the elder said, —

" If yon ever (all into misfortune or need, call three
times on me, and I will come and help you ; but mind
yon don't call on me till you are at the last pinch."

"Weill'* said ShortshankB, "if iiiat's to be the
mle, I don't think we shall meet again very soon,"

Aiter that they bade each other good-bye, and
Shortehanks went east, and King Stnnjy west

Now, you must know, when Shortsfaanks had gems
a good bit alone, he met an old, old crook-backed hag,
who had only one eye, and Shortshanks snapped it up.

"Ohl ohl" screamed the hag, " what has become
of my eye?"

" What will you give me," asked ShortshuikB, " if
you get yoor eye back?"

" I'll ^ve you a sword, and such a swotdl It will '
put a whole army to flight, be it ever bo great," answered
the old woman.

"Out with it, then!" said Shortshanks.

.yCOOgIC

129

So the old hag gave him die sword, and got her
eye back agtun. After that, Shortshants wandered on a
while, and another old, old crook-backed hag met him
who had only one eye, which Short^anks stole before
she waa aware of him.

" Oh, oh I whateyer has become (rf my eye,"
screamed the hag.

" What will yoo give me to get your eye back?"
aaked Shortflhaiik&

"I'll giye you a ship," said the woman, "which
can sail over &eah water and salt water, and over high
bills and deep dales."

" WeD t out with it," said Shortshanks.

So the old woman gave him a little tiny ship, no
bigger than he could pat in his pocket, and she got her
eye back again, and they each went their way. But
when he had wandered on a long, long way, he met a
third time an old, old crook-backed hag, with only one
eye. This eye, too, Shortshanks stole ; and when the
hag screamed and made a great to-do, bawling out
what had become of her eye, Shortshanks scud, —

" What will yon give me to get back your
eye?"

Then she amwered, —

" I'll give you the art how to brew a hundred lasts
of malt at one strike."

.yCOOgIC

130 KORSZ TALES.

Well t for tesching that srt the old hag got )ack
her e;e, and the^ each went tiieir way.

But when Shoitshanks had walked a little way, be
thought it might be worth while to try his ehip ; ao he
took it out of his pocket, and put first one foot into it,
and then the other ; and as aoon as ever he set one
foot into it, it began to grow bigger and bigger, and
by the time be set the other foot into it, it was as
big ae other ships that scul on the sea. Then Short-
shuiks sud, —

" Off and away, over fresh water and salt water,
over high bills and deep dales, and don't stop till yon
come to the king's palace."

And lo ! away went the abip as swiftly as a bird
through the air, till it came down a little below the
king's pdace, and there it stopped. From the palace
windows people had stood and seen Shortshanks come
sailing along, and they were aU so amazed that they
ran down to see who it could be that came soiling in a
ship through the air. But while they were muning
down, Shortshanks had stepped out of his abip and put
it into his pocket again ; for as soon aa he stepped out
of it, it became as small as it was when he got it Irom
the old woman. So those who had nm down bam the
palace saw no one bat a ragged little boy standing
down there by the strand. Then the king aa^ed

U.g.VK.yC00glc

131

wheQoe Ite came, bat llie bo; said he didn't knov, nor
could be tell them how he had got there. There he
vaB, and that vas all tiiey cocld get out of him ; bat
he begged and prayed so prettily to get a placo in the
king's palace ; saying, if there was nothing else for him
to do, he could carry in wood and water for the kitchen-
maid, that Uieir hearts were touched, and he got leave
to stay there.

Now when Shortshanks came up to the paUce, he
saw how it was all hong with black, both ontside and
in, wall and loof ; so he asked the kitchen-miud what all
that moaming meant ?

"Don't yott know?" said the kitchen-maid ; "I'll
aooD teQ you : the king's daughter was promised away
a long time ago to three ogres, and next Thursda;
evening one of Uiem is coming to fetch her. Ritt«r
Red, it is true, has given ont that he is man enough
to set her free, but God knows if he can do it;
and now yon know why we are all in grief and soar-
row."

So when Thursday evening came, Ritter Red led
tiie Prineese down to the strand, for there it was she
was to meet Uie Ogre, and he was to stay by her there
and watch ; but he wasn't likely to do the Ogre much
harm, I reckcm, for as soon as ever the Priacess bad
sat down on the strand. Bitter Red climbed up into a

U.g.VK.yC00glc

132 HORSE TALES.

great tree that stood there, &nd hiJ himselT as well as
he could among the boughs. The Princees begged and
prayed him not to leave her, but Ritter Red turned a
deaf ear to her, and all be said was, —

'"Tis better for one to lose life than for two."

That was what Ritter Red sfud.

Meantiine Shortahanka went to the kitchen-maid,
and asked her so prettily if he mightn't go down to the
strand for a bit?

" And what should take you down to the strand,"
aaked the kitchen-mud? " You know you've no buwl-
neas there."

" Oh, dear Mend," said Shortshanks, " do let me
go? I should BO like to run down there and play a
wtule with the other children ; that I should."

"Well, well I" scud the kitchen-maid, "off with
you ; . but don't let me catch you ataying there a bit
over the time when the broee for supper must be set
on the fire, and the roast put on the spit ; and let me
see ; when you come back, mind yon bring a good armful
of wood with you."

Yes 1 Shortshanks would mind all that ; so off he
ran down to the strand.

But just as he reached the spot where the Princess
eat, what should come but the Ogre tearing along in
his ship, so that the wind roared and howled after him.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

SHOBTSHANKe. 133

He was so tall and stont that it was awful to look od
him, and he had five heads of his owd.

" Fire and flame l" screamed the Ogre.

" Fire and flame yoaiaelf !" stud Shortshanks.

" Can you fight?" roared the Ogre.

" If I can't, I can leam," said ShortshuikB.

So the Ogre struck at htm with a great thick iron
club which he had in his fist, and the earth and stones
flew ap fire yards into the air after the stroke.

" My ! " said Shortshanks, " that was something
like a blow, but now yoa shall see a stroke of mine."

Then he grasped the sword he had got from the
old croo^-backed hag, and cut at the Ogre ; and away
went all his five heads flying over the sand. So when
the Princess saw she was saved, she was so glad that
she scarce knew what to do, and she jumped and
danced for joy. " Come, lie down, and sleep a little
in my lap," she said to Shortshanks, and as he slept
B^e threw over bim a tinsel robe.

Now you mnst know, it wasn't long before Bitter
Red crept down from the tree, as soon as he saw
there was nothing to fear in the way, and he went
up to the Princess and threatened her antil she pro-
mised to say it was he who had saved her life ; for if
she wouldn't say so, be s^d he would kill her on the
spot. After that he cut out the Ogre's longs and

U.g.VK.yC00glc

134 N0B3B TALK.

tongue, and mapped them np in his handkerchief, aod
BO led the Princess back to the palace, and whatever
honoois he had not before he got then, for the king
did not know how to find honour enough for him, and
made him sit every day on Ids right hand at dinner.

As for Shortshauka, he vent first of all on board
the Ogre's ship, and took a whole heap of gold and silver
rings, as lai^ as hoops, and trotted off with them ss
hard as he could to the palace. When the kitchen-
maid set her eyes on all that gold and ulver, she was
qnite scared, and asked him, —

'* Bat dear, good, Shortahanks, wherever did you
get all this from?" for she was rather o&aid he hadn't
come rightly by it.

"Obi" answered Shortshanks, "I went home for
a bit, and tiiere I found these hoops, which had fallen
off some old pails of ours, so I laid hands on them for
yon, if yon must know."

Well 1 when the kitchen-maid heard they were for
her, she scud nothing more about the matter, bat
thanked Shortshanks, and they were good friends again.

The next Thursday evening it was the same story
over again ; all were in grief and trouble, but Eitter
Red said, as he had saved the Princess from one Ogre^
it was hard if he couldn't save her from another ; end
down he led her to the strand as brave as a lion. But

.yCOOgIC

BHOBTSHAyKB. 135

he didn't do this Ogre mucli harm either, for when the
time came that they looked for the Ogre, he sud, aa he
had aaid before, —

" 'Tis better ooe shoold loee life thui two," and crept
up into his tree again. But ShorteliaDkB begged the kit-
difiO-mud to let him go down to the strand for a little.

"Oht" asked the kitchen-maid, "and what bnsi-
nees have you down there ?"

" Bear friend," said ShortsbankB, " do pray let me
go. I long BO to run down and play a while with the
other children."

Well 1 the kitchen-maid gave him leave to go, bnt he
most promise to be back by the time the roast was turned,
and he was to mind and bring a big bundle of wood
with him. So Shortahanks had scarce got down to the
strand, when the Ogre came tearing along in his ship,
so that the wind howled and roared around faim ; he
was twice as big as the other Ogre, and he had ten
heads on his shoulders.

" Fire and flame I" screamed the Ogre.

"Fire and flame yourself I" answered Shortshanks.

"Can you fight?" roared the Ogre.

" If I can't, I can leam," said Shortshanks.

Then the Ogre struck at him with his iron dub ; it
was even bigger than that which the first Ogre had,
and the earth and stones fiew up ten yards into the air.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

136 NOBBS TALES.

" My I " swd Shortshanks, " that was somethiiig
like a blow; now you shall eee a stroke of mine."
Then he grasped hia sword, and cut off all the Ogre's
ten heads at one blow, and sent them dancing away
over the saod.

Then the Princess sfud agiun to him, " Lie down aui
sleep a little while on my lap ;" and while Shortehanks
lay there, she threw over him a silver robe. But as soon
as Ritter Red marked that there was no more danger
in the way, he crept down from the tree, Mid threat-
ened the Princess, till she was forced to give her word,
to say it was he who had set her free ; after that, he
cut the lungs and tongue out of the Ogre, and wrapped
them in his handkerchief, and led the Piincess back to
the palace. Then you may fancy what mirth and
joy there was, and the king was at his wits' end to know
how to show Ritter Red honour and favour enough.

This time, too, Shortshanks took a whole armful of
gold and silver rings from the Ogre's ship, and when he
came back to &e pdace the kitchen-maid clapped her
hands in wonder, asking wherever he got all that gold
imd silver from. But Shortshanks answered that he
had been home a while, and that the hoops had fallen
off some old pails, so he had Ifdd his hands on them for
his fiiend the kitchen-maid.

So when the third Thursday evening came, every-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

SBOBTSHANTO. 137

thing happened as it had happened twice before ; the
whole palace wae hung with black, and all went about
mourning and weeping. But Kitter Red said he
couldn't see what need they had to be so a&aid ; he bad
freed the Princess from two Ogrea, and be could very
well free her from a third ; bo he led her down to the
strand, but when the time drew near for the Ogre to
come up, he crept into his tree again, and hid himself.
The Princess begged and prayed, but it was no good,
for Ritter Red said again, —

" 'Tis better that one should lose life than two."

That evening, too, Shortshanks begged for leave to
go down to the strand.

" Oh !" said the kitchen-mud, " what should take
you down there?"

But he begged and prayed so, that at last he got
leave to go, only he had to promise to be back in the
kitchen again when the roast was to be turned. So
off he went, but he had scarce reached the strand when
the Ogre came with the wind howling and roaring ai^r
him. He was much, much bigger than either of the
other two, and he had fifteen beads on his shoulders.

" Fire and flame I " roared out the Ogre.

" Fire and Game yourself," said Shortebanks.

" Can you fight?" screamed the Ogre.

" If I can't, I can learn," said Shortshanks.

.yCOOgIC

138 H0B8E TA1.E&

" I'll BOOD teach yon," screained theOgre, andBtnick
at him with his iron dnb, bo that the earth, and stone*
Hew Dp fifteen yards into the air.

" My 1 " 8ud Shortibauks, " that was something like
a blow ; but now yon ahall see a stroke of mine."

As he said that, he grasped his sword, and mt off
all tlie Ogre's 6fteen heaite at one blow, and sent theai
all dancing over the sand.

So the PrincesB was &eed from all the Ogree, and
she both blessed and thanked ShortahankB for saving
her life.

" Sleep now a while on my \up" she said ; and he
l^d his head on her lap, and while he slept, she threw
orer him a golden robe.

" But how shall we let it be known that it is yon
that have saved me ?" she asked, when he awoke.

"Oh, I'll soon tell you," answered Shoitohaoks.
When Bitter Bed has led you borne again, and given
himself ont as the man who has saved you, yon know
be is to have you to wife, and half the kingdcHu.
Now, when dey ask you, on your wedding-day, w1k«i
yon will have to be your cup-beartf , you must say, ' I
will have the ragged boy who does odd jobs in the
kitchen, and carries in wood and water for the kitchen-
maid.' So when I am filling your oipa, I will spill a
drop on his plate, bnt nwe on yours ; then he will be

.yCOOgIC

wtoth, and give me a blow, and the same thing will
happen three times. But tbe third time yon mtut
mind and BSy, ' Shame on yon I to strike my heart's
darling; be it is who set pie free, and liim will I
have I ' "

AiUr that Shortshanks ran back to the palace, as
he had done before ; but he went first on board the
Ogre's ship, and took a whole heap of gold, silver, and
predom stones, and out of them he gave the kitchen-
maid another great armfiil of gold and silver mgs.

Well I as for Rittw Bed, as soon aa ever he saw
tfaat all risk was orer, be crept down from his tree,
and threatened the Princess till she was forced to pro-
mise she woold say it was he who had saved her.
After tiiat be led her back to the palace, and all the
faononr shown him before was nothing to what be got
now, for the king thoaght of nothing else tlian how he
might best honour Uie man who had saved bis daugh-
ter from the three Ogres. As for his marrying her,
and having half the kingdom, that was a settled thing,
the king sfud. But when the wedding-day came, the
PrincesB begged she might have the ragged boy who
carried in wood and Vater for the cook to be her cup-
bearer at the bridal-feast.

" I can't think why yon should want to bring that
filthy b^gai boy in here," said Ritter Bed ; bnt the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

140 NOBSE TALES.

Prmcees had a will of her own, and sud she woald
have faim, and no one else, to pour oat faer wine ; so
she bad her tfay at last Now everything went as it
had heen agreed between ShortsbankB and the FrincesB;
he spilled a drop on Ritter Red's plate, but none on
her's, and each time Bitter Bed got wroth and struck
him. At the first blow Shortshank's rags fell off which
he had worn in the kitchen ; at the second the tinsel
robe fell off; and at the third the silver robe ; and then
he stood in bis golden robe, all gleaming and glittering
in the light. Then the Princess stud, —

" Shame on yon I to -stnke my heart's darling ! he
has saved me, and him will I have !"

Ritter Rod cursed and swore it was he who had
set her ftee; but the king put in his word, and
said, —

" The man who saved my daughter must have
some token to show for it"

" Yes 1 Ritter Red had something to show, and he
ran off at once alter his handkerchief with the lungs
and tongnes in it, and Shortshanks fetched all the gold
and silver, and precious things, he had taken oat of the
Ogres' ships. So each laid his tokens before the king,
and the king said, —

" The man who has each precious stores of gold,
and silver, and diamonds, most have slun the Ogre,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

SHOBTSHANES. 141

and spoiled hia goode, for such thiDgs are not to be had
elsewhere." '

So Ritter Red was thrown iato a pit full of snakes,
and Shortshanks was to have the PrinceBS and half Hie
kingdom.

One day Shortehanke and the king were out walk-
ing, and Shortshanka aaked the king if he hadn't any
more children?

" Yes," siud the king, " I had another daughter ;
but the Ogre has taken her away, because there was no
one who could save her. Now you are going to have
one daughter, but if you can set the other free whom
tiie Ogre has carried'off, you shall have her too with
all my heart, and the other half of my kingdom."

"Well," said Shortshanks, "I may as well try;
but I must have an iron cable, five hundred fathoms
long, and five hundred men, and food for them to
last fifteen weeks, for I hare a long voyage before me."

Yes [ the king Btud he shonld have them, but he was
aJndd there wasn't a ship in his kingdom big enough to
carry such a freight.

" Oh I if that's all," said Shortshanks, " I have a
ship of my own."

With that he whipped out of his pocket the ship
he had got from the old hag.

The king laughed, and thought it was all a joke ;

U.g.VK.yC00glc

143 NOBSB IAI.IS.

but SbortBbaDka begged him only to give him what he
asked, and he should soon eee if it was a joke. So they
got together vhat he wanted, and Shortshauks bade him
pot the cable on board the ship first of all ; bat there
was no one man who conld lift it, and there wasn't room
for more than one at a time roimd the tiny ship. Then
3hortahaiika took hold of the caUe by ooe end, and
laid a link or two into the ship ; and as h« threw in the
links, the ^p grew bigger and bigger, till at last it
got BO hig, that there wm room encash and to spare in
it for the cable, and the fire hnndred men, and their
food, and Shortshanka, and alL Then he said to the
diip,—

" Off and away, over firesh water and salt water,
over high hill and deep dale, and don't stop till you
come to -whtxe the king's daughter is." And away
went the ship over land and sea, lall the wind whistled
after it.

So when they had sailed far, far away, the ship
stood stock still in the middle of the aea.

"Ah!" said Shortahanks, "now wo have got so
far ; but how we are to get back is another story."

Then he took the cable and tied one end of it roand
his wust, and said, —

" Now, I must go to the bottom, but when I give
the cable a good tug, and want to come up agtun, mind

.yCOOgIC

SHOSIBHAMKfi. 143

yoo all hoist away with & will, or ynui Kves will be kwt
SB well as mine ;" and with these wocda overboard he
leapt, and dived down, ao that yellow wave* roM loand
him in an eddy.

Well, he sank and aaDk, and at last he came to the
bottom, and there he saw a great rock riBing up with a
door in it, BO he opened the door and went in. When he
got inside, he saw another Princess, who eat and sewed,
bat when Aa saw Shortshanks, she elated her hands
together and cried out, —

" Now, God be thanked I yon are the fint Christian
nail I've set eyes on since I came here."

" Very good," said Shortahanka ; " but do you know
I've (XHue to fetch yoa?"

"Oh!" she cried, "yoa'll never fetch me; you'll
never have that lack, for if the Ogre sees you, he'll kill
yon on the spot."

"I'm ^ad yon spoke of the Ogre," said Short-
shanks ; " 'twould be Sne fun to see him ; whereabouts
is he?"

Then the Princess told him the Ogre was out
looking for some one who conld brew s hundred lasts
of malt at one strike, for he was going to give a great
feast, and less drink wouldn't do.

" Weill I can do that," said Shortshanks.

" Ah I " said the Princess ; " if only the Ogre wasn't

U.g.VK.yC00glc

144 K0B6B TALKS.

BO hasty, I might tell him about yon ; but he's so cross ;
I'm afraid he'll tear yoa to pieces as soon as he comes
in, without wuliQg to hear my story. Let me see what
is to be done. Ob 1 I have it ; jost hide yourself in the
side-room yonder, and let us take our cbfmce."

Well I Shortshanks did as she told him, and he
had scarce crept into the side-room before the Ogre came

"Hufl" sidd die Ogre; "what a horrid smell of
Christian man's blood I"

" Yes I " Bfud the Princess, " I know there is, for a
bird flew over the house with a Christian man's bone in
hia bill and let it fall down the chimney. I made all
the haste I could to get it out again, but I dare say it's
that you smell."

" Ah 1 " said the Ogre, " like enough."

Then the Princess asked the Ogre if he had Itud hold
of any one who could brew a hundred hists of malt at
one strike ?

" No," said the Ogre, " I can't hear of any one who
can do it"

" Well," she said, " a while ago, there was a chap
in here who said he could do it."

" Just like you, with your wisdom I " said the Ogre ;
" why did you let him go away then, when you knew he
was Uie very man I wanted ?"

U.g.VK.yC00glc

8H0BTSHANK8. 145

"Well then, I did n't let him go," aaid the Prin-
cess ; " but father's temper is a little hot, so I hid him
away in the side-room yonder ; but if father hasn't hit
apon any one, here he is."

"Well," said the Ogre, " let him come in then."

So Shortohauks came in, and the Ogre asked him
if it were true that he could brew a hundred ksta of
malt at a strike ?

" Tes it is," said Shortabanks.

" 'Twas good luck then to lay hands on you," said
the Ogre, "and now fall to work this minute; but
heaven help you if you don't brew the ale strong
enough."

" Oh," said Shortshanks, " never fear, it shall be
stinging stuff ;" and with that be began to brew n-ith-
out more fuss, but all at once he cried out, —

" I must have more of you Ogres to help in the
brewing, for these I have got a'nt half strong enough."

Well, he got more — so many, that there was a whole
swarm of them, and then the brewing went on bravely.
Now when the sweet-wort was ready, they were all
eager to taste it, you may guess ; first of all the Ogre, and
then all his kith and kin. But Shortabanks had brewed
the wort ao strong that they all fell down dead, one
after another, like so many flies, as soon as they had
tasted it. At Ust there wasn't one of them left alive

H

U.g.VK.yC00glc

146 NORSE TALES.

but one vile old hag, wbo lay bed-ridden in the chimney-
<:orner.

" Oh you poor old wretch," said Shortahanks, " you
may just as well taste the wort along with the rest."

So lie weut and scooped up a little trom the bottom
of the copper in a scoop, and gave her a drink, and so
he was rid of the whole pack of them.

As he stood there and looked about him, he cast his
eye on a great chest, bo he took it and filled it with
gold and silver ; then he tied the cable round himself
and the Princess and the chest, and gave it s good tag,
and his men pulled them all up, safe and sound. Aa
soon aa ever ShortshankB was well up, he said to the ship,

" Off and away, over fresh water and salt water,
high hilt and deep dale, and don't stop till you come to
the king's palace ; " and straightway the ship held on her
course, so that the yellow billows foamed round her.
When the people in the palace saw the ship sailing up,
they were not slow in meeting them with songs and
music, welcoming Shortshanks with great joy ; but t^e
gladdest of all was the king, who had now got his other
daughter back again.

But now Shortshanks was rather down-hearted, for
you must know that both the princesses wanted to have
him, and he would have no other than the one he had first
saved, and she was the youngest. So he walked up
and down, and thought and thought what he should do

L)in;« ...Google

gHORTSHAHES. 147

to get her, and yet do sometbing to please her sister.
Well, one day as he waa turning the thing over iu his
mmd, it struck him if he only had hie brother King
Sturdy, who was so like him that no one could tell the
one from the other, he would give up to him the other
princess and h^ the kingdom, for he thought one-half
was quite enougli.

Well, as soon as ever this came into his mind he
went outside the palace and called on King Sturdy, but
DO one came. So he called a second time a little
louder, hut still no one came. Then he called out the
third time " King Sturdy" with all his might, and there
stood his brother before Mm.

" Didn't 1 say !" he said to Shortshanka, " didn't
I aay you were not to call me except in your utmost
need ? and here there is not so much as a gnat to do
you any harm," and with that he gave him such a box
on the ear that Shortehanke tumbled head over heels
on the grass.

" Now shame on you to hit so hard ! " said Short-
shanks. " First of all I woo a princess and half the
kingdom, and then I won another princess and the other
half of the kingdom; and now I'm thinking to give
you one of the princesses and half the kingdom. Is
there any rhyme or reason in giving me such a box on
the ear?"

U.g.VK.yC00glc

148 NOBSB TALES.

When King Sturdy heard that, he begged his brother
to forgive him, and they were soon as good fiiende as
ever again.

"Now," said ShortshankB, "yon know, we are so
much alike that no one can tell the one fr(jm the other ;
80 just chuige clothes with me and go into the palace ;
then the princesses will think it is I that am coming in,
and the one that kisseH you first you ghall have for your
wife, and I will have the other for mine."

And he said this because he knew well enough that
the elder king's daughter was the stronger, and so he
could very well guess how things would go. As for
King Sturdy, lie was willing enough, so he changed
clothes with his brother and went into the palace. But
when he came into the Princesses bower they thought
it was Sbortshanks, and both ran up to him to kiss
him ; but the elder, who was stronger and bigger,
puHht'd her sister ou one side, and threw her arms round
King Sturdy's ueck, and gave him a kias ; and so he
got her for hie wife, and Sbortshanks got the younger
Princess. Then they made ready for the wedding, and
you may fancy what a grand one it was, when I tell
you, that the fame of it was noised abroad over seven
kingdoms.

.yCOOgIC

GUDBRAND ON THE HILL-SIDE.

/^NCE on a time there was a man whose name was
Gudbrand ; he had a farm wlijcb la; far, far away
upon a hill-side, and so they called him Gudbrand od the
Hill-side.

Now, you most know this man and his goodwife
lived so happily together, and understood one another
80 well, that all the husband did the wife thought bo
well done there was nothing like it in the world, and
she was always glad whatever he tamed his hand to.
The farm was their own laod, and they had a hundred
dollars lying at the bottom of their chest, and two cows
tethered up in a stall in their farm-yard.
So one day bis wife said to Gudbrand, —
" Do you know, dear, I think we ought to take one
of our cows into town and sell it ; that's what I think ;
for then we shall have some money in hand, and such
well to-do people as we ought to have re^y money
like the rest of the world. As for the hundred dollars
at the bottom of the chest yonder, we can't make a
hole in them, and I'm sure I don't know what we want
with more than one cow. Besides, we shall gain a little

U.g.VK.yC00glc

150 NORSE TALKS.

in another way, for then I shall get off with only look-
ing after one cow, instead of having, as now, to feed and
litter and water two."

Well, Gudbrand thought his wife talked ri^t good
sense, bo be set off at once with the cow on hit) way to
town to sell her ; but when he got to the town, there
waB no one who would bay his cow.

" Well ! well ! never mind," said Gudbrand, " at
the worst, I can only go back home again with my cow.
I've both stable and tether for her, I should think, and
the road is no farther out than in ;" and with that he
began to toddle home with his cow.

But when he had gone a bit of the way, a man
met him who had a horse to sell, so Gudbrand thought
'twas better to have a horse than a cow, so he swopped
with the man. A little farther on he met a man walking
along and driving a fat pig before him, and he thought
it better to have a fat pig than a horee, eo he swopped
with the man. Aftor that he went a little farther, and
a man met him with a goat ; so be thought it better to
have a goat than a pig, and he swopped with the man
that owned the goat. Then be went on a good bit till
he met a man who had a sheep, and he swopped with
him too, for he thought it always better to have a
sheep than a goat. After a while he met a man with
a goose, and he swopped away the sheep for the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

QUDBBAND ON TBE HILL-SIDE. 151

goose ; and when he had walked a long, long time, he
met a man with a cock, and he swopped with him, kn
he thought in this wise, " 'Tis surely bett«r to have h
cock than a goose." Then he went on till the day
was fax spent, and he began to get very hungry, so be
sold the cock for a shilling, and bought food with the
money, for, thought Gudbrand on the Hill-side, " 'Tie
always better to save one's life than to have a cock,"

After that he went on home till he reached his
nearest neighbour's house, where he turned in.

"Well," said the owner of tjie house, "how did
things go with you in town?"

"Kather so so," said Gudbrand, "I can't praise
ray luck, nor do I blame it either," and with that he
told the whole story from first to last.

"Ah!" said his friend, "you'll get nicely called
over the coals, that one can see, when you get home to
your wife. Heaven help you, I wouldn't stand in
your Bhoes for something."

" Well ! " said Gudbrand on the Hill-side, " I think
things might have gone much worse with me ; but now,
whether I have done wrong or not, I have so kind a
goodwife, she never has a word to say against any-
thing that I do,"

" Oh ! " answered his neighbour, " I hear what you
say, but I don't believe it for all that."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

152 NORSE TALES,

" Shall we lay a bet upon it?" asked Gadbrand on
the Hill-side. " I have a hundred dollars at the bottom
of my chest at home ; will you lay as many against them?"

Yes ! the friend was ready to bet ; bo Gudbrand
stayed there till evening, when it began to get ttark, and
then they went together to his house, and the neigbbonr
was to Rtand outride the door and listen, while the man
went in to see his wife.

"Good evening!" aud Gudbrand on the Hill-side.

" Good evening ! " said the goodwife. " Oh ! is that
yon? now, God be praised."

Tea ! it was he. So the wife aaked how things
had gone with him in town ?

"Oh I only so bo," answered Gndbrand; "not
much to brag of. When I got to the town there was
no one who would buy the cow, so you must know I
swopped it away for a horse."

" For a horse," said his wife ; " well that ia good
of you ; thanks with all my heart We are so well to
do that we may drive to church, just as well afl other
people ; and if we choose to keep a horse we have a
right to get one, I should think. So mn out, child, and
put up the horse."

" Ahl" said Gadbrand, "but you see I've not got
the horse after all ; for when I got a hit farther on the
road, I swopped it away for a pig."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

aUDBRAHD OH THE HILL-SIDE. 153

" Think of that, now I" said the wife ; " you did just
as I should have done myself ; a thouBand tbanks I
Now I can have a bit of bacon in the house to set
before people when they come to see me, that I can.
What do we want with a horse ? People would only
aay we had got so proud that we couldn't walk to
church. Go out, child, and put up the pig in the stye."

" But 1 've not got the pig either," said Gudhrand ;
" for when I got a little &rther on, I swopped it away
for a milch goat"

" Blesa U8 ! " cried his wife, " how well you manage
every thing I Now I think it over, what should I do
with a pig? People would only point at us and say,
' Yonder they eat up all they have got.' No ! now I
have gut a goat, and I shall have milk and cheese, and
keep the goat too. Run out, child, and put up the goat."

"Nay, but I haven't got the goat either," said
Gudbrand, " for a little farther on I swopped it away,
and got a line sheep instead."

'* Tou don't say so I " cried his wife ; " why you do
everything to please me, just as if I had been with you ;
wliat do we want with a goat ? If I had it I should
lose half my time in climbuig up the hills to get it
down. No 1 if I have a sheep, I shall have both wool
and clothing, and Iresh meat in the house. Run out,
child, and put up the sheep."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

154 NORSE TALES.

" But I haven't got the sheep any more than the
reBt," said Gudbreod ; " for when I had gone a bit
farther, I swopped it away for a goose."

"Thank yon I thank you! with all my heart," cried
his wife ; " what should I do with a sheep? I have no
spinning-wheel, nor carding-comb, nor should I care to
worry myself with cutting, and shaping, and sewing
clothes. We can buy clothes now, as we have always
done ; and now I shall have roast goose, which I have
longed for so often ; and, besides, down to stuff my littlo
pillow with. Run out, child, and put up the goose."

" Ah !" said Gudbrand, " but I haven't the goose
either ; for when I had gone a bit farther 1 swopped
it away for a cock."

"Dear me!" cried his wife, "how you think of
everything! just as I should have done myself. A
cock I think of that! why it's as good as an eight-day
clock, for every morning the cock crows at four
o'clock, and we shall be able to stir our stumps in good
time. Whatshould we do with agoose? I don't know
how to cook it ; and as for my pillow, I can stuff it with
cottou-grasB. Run out, child, and put up the cock."

" But, after all, I haven't got the cock," said Gud-
brand ; " for when I had gone a bit farther, I got as
hungry as a hunter, so I was forced to sell tlie cock for
a shilling, for fear I should starve."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

ODDBRAND OH THE HlLL-SlDE. 155

" Now, God be praised that yon did bo I" cried his
■wife ; " whatever you do, you do it always just after
my owD heart. What should we do with the cock ?
We are our own masters, I should think, and can lie
a-bed in the moniing as long as we like. Heaven be
thanked that I have got you safe back again ; you who
do everything bo weD that I want neither cock nor
goose; neither pigs nor kine."

Then Gndbnind opened the door and said, —
" Well, what do you say now? Have I won the
hundred dollars?" and his neighbour was forced to
allow that he had.

.yCOOgIC

THE BLUE BELT.

^NCE on a time there was an old beggar-woman, who
had gone out to beg. She bad a little lad with her,
■ and when she had got her bag fiill, she struck aeroBB
the bills towards her own home. So when they had
gone a bit up the hill-side, they came upon a little blue
belt, which lay where two paths met, and the lad asked
his mother's leave to pick it up.

" No," 8£ud she, " may be there 'a witchcraft in it ;"
and so with threats she forced bim to follow ber. But
when they bad gone a bit further, the lad said he must
turn aside a moment out of the road, uid meanwhile his
mother sat down on a tree-stump. But the lad was a
long time gone, for as soon as he got so iar into the
wood, that the old dame could not see him, he ran off
to where the belt lay, took it up, tied it round his waist,
and lo 1 he felt as strong as if he could lift the whole
hill. When be got back, the old dame was in a great
rage, and wanted to know what he had been doing all
that while. " You don't cu% how mnch time you waste,
and yet you know the night is drawing on, and we mast

U.g.VK.yC00gIc

THE BLUB BILT. 157

cross the hill before it is dark I " So on they tramped ;
bat when they had got about half-way, the old dame grew
weary, and said she must rest under a bnsL

" Dear mother," sfud the lad, " mayn't I just go
up to the top of this high crag while you rest, and try
if I can't see some sign of folk hereabouts ?"

Yes I he might do that ; so when he bad got to the
top, he saw a light shining from the north. So be ran
down and told his mother.

" We must get on mother ; we are near a bouse, for
I see a bright light shining quite close to us in the
north." Then she rose and shouldered her bag, and
set off to see; but they hadn't gone far, before there
stood a steep spur of the hill, right across their path.

" Just as I thought ! " said the old dame ; " now we
can't go a step farther ; a pretty bed we shall have
here !"

" But the lad took the bag under one arm, and his
mother under the other, and ran straight up the steep
crag with them.

" Now, don't you see ! don't you see that we are
close to a house! don't you see the bright light?

But the old dame said those were no christian folk,
but Trolls, for she was at home all that forest far and
near, and knew there was not a living soul in it, unUI
you were well over the ridge, and had come down on

U.g.VK.yC00glc

158 KORSS TALES.

the otlier side. But the; went on, and in a little while
they came to a great house which waa all painted red.

" What's the good?" said the old dame, "we daren't
go in, for here the TroUa iiye."

" Don't say so ; we must go in. There must be men
where the lighta shine so," said the lad. So in he went,
and his mother after hrm, but he had scarce opened the
door before she swooned away, for there she saw a great
stout man, at least twenty feet high, sittiDg on the bench.

" Good evening, grandfather I" said the lad.

Well, here I've sat three hundred years," said the
man who sat on the bench, " and no one has ever come
and called me grandfather before." Then the lad sat
down by the man's »de, and began to talk to him as if
they had been old friends.

"But what's come over your mother?" said the
man, after they had chattered a while. " I think ahe
swooned away ; you had better look after her."

So the lad went and took hold of the old dame ; and
dragged her up the hall along the floor. That brought
her to her^lf, and she kicked, and scratched, and flung
herself about, and at last sat down upon a heap of fire-
wood in the comer ; but she was so Irightened that she
scarce dared to look one in the foce.

After a while, the lad asked if they could spend the
night there.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE BLUE BELT. 159

" Yes, to be aure," said tbe man.

So they went on talking again, but the lad Boon got
hniigry, and wanted to know if they could get food as
well as lodging.

" Of course," s^d the man, " that might be got
too." And after he had eat a while longer, he rose up
and threw six loads of dry pitch-pine on the fire. This
made the old hag still more airaid.

" OhI now Iie'B going to roast ub alive," she said,
in the comer whfire she sat.

And when the wood had burned down to glowing
embers, up got the man and strode out of his house.

" Heaven bless and help us ! what a stout hi^art you
have got," said the old dame ; " don't you see we have
got amongst Trolls?"

" Stuff and nonsense ! " said the lad ; " no harm if
we have."

In a little while back came the man with an ox so
&t and big, the lad had never seen its like, and he gave
it one blow with his fist under the ear, and down it fell
dead on the floor. When that wae done, he took it up
by all the four legs, and laid it on the glowing embers,
and turned it and twisted it about till it was burnt
brown outside. After that, he went to a cupboard and
took out a great silver dish, and laid the ox on it ; and
the dish was so big that none of the ox hung over on

U.g.VK-.CoO'^lc

160 trOBBE TALES.

any Bide. This he put on the table, and then he went
down iDto the cellaj, and fetched a cask of wine,
knocked out the head, and put the cask on the table,
together with two knives, which were each six feet long.
When this was done, he bade them go and sit down to
supper and eat. So they went, the lad first and the
old dame after, but she began to whimper and w^, and
to wonder how she should ever use such knives. But
her son seized one, and began to cut slices out of the
thigh of the ox, which he placed before his mother.
And when they had eaten a bit, be took up the cask
with both hands, and lifted it down to the floor ; then
he told his mother to come and drink, but it was still so
high she could n't reach up to it -, so he caught her up,
and held her up to the edge of the cask while she drank ;
as for himself, he clambered up and hung down like a
cat inside the cask while he drank. So when he had
quenched his thirst, he took up the cask and put it
back on the table, and thanked the man for the good
meal, and told his mother to come and thank him too,
and a-feard -though she was, she dared do nothing else
but thank the man. Then the lad sat down again
alongside the man and began to gosaip, and after they
bad sat a while, the man said —

" Well 1 I must just go and get a bit of supper
too ;" and so be went to the table and ate up the whole

THS BLUE BELT. 161

OX — hoofs, and boms, aud all — aud druned the cask to
the last drop, and then went hack and sat on the
bench.

" As for beds," he said, "I don't know what's to
be done. I've only got one bed and a cradle ; but we
could get on pretty well if you would sleep in the cradle,
and then your mother might lie in the bed yonder."

"Thank you kindly, that'll do nicely," said the
lad ; and with that he pulled off his clothes and lay down
in the cradle ; but, to tell you the truth, it watt quite
as big as a four-poster. As for the old dame, she had
to follow the man who showed her to bed, though she
was out of her wits for foar,

" Well I " thought the lad to himself, " 'twill never
do to go to sleep yet. I 'd best he awake and listen
how tilings go as the night wears on."

So after a while the man began to talk to the old
dame, and at last he said —

" We two might hve here so happily together, could
we only be rid of thia son of yours."

"But do you know how to settle him.? Is that
what you're thinking of ? " said she.

" Nothing eaffler," said he ; at anj rate he would

try. He would just say he wished the old dame would

stay and keep house for him a day or two, and then he

would take the lad out with him up the hill to quarrv

H 2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

162 NOBSE TAL88.

comer-stonee, and roll down a great rock on him. All
this the lad lay and listened to.

Next day the Troll— for it was a Troll as clear
as day — asked if the old dame would stay and keep
house for him a few days ; and as the day went on he
took Bk great iron crowbar, and asked the lad if he had a
mind to go with him up the hill and quarry a few corner-
stones. With alt his heart, he sfdd, and went with
him ; and bo, after they had split & few stones, the
Troll wanted him to go down below and look after
cracks in the rock ; and while he was doing this, the
Troll worked away, and wearied himself with his crow-
bar till he moved a whole crag out of its bed, which
came rolling right down on the place where the lad
was ; but he held it up till he could get on one side, and
then let it roll on.

" Oh ! " said the lad to the Troll, " now I see what
you mean to do with me. You want to cnish me to
death ; so just go down yourself and look after the
cracks and refts in the rock, and I'll stand up above."

The Troll did not dare to do otherwise than the lad
bade him, and the end of it was that the lad rolled down
a great rock, which fell upon the Troll, and broke one
of his thighs.

" Well t you are in a sad plight," sud the lad, as
he strode down, lifted up the rock, tmd set the man free.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE BLUE BELT. IG^

After that he had to put hiai on his back oiid carry
him home ; bo he ran with him as fast as a horse, aod
ebook him bo that the Troll screamed and screeched as
if a knife were run into him. And when he gut home,
they liad to put the Troll to bed, and there he lay in a
sad pickle.

When the night wore on the Troll began to talk to
the old dame again, and to wonder how ever they could
be rid of the lad.

" Well," said the old dame, " if you can't hit on a
plan to get rid of him, I'm sure I can't."

" Let me see," said the Troll; " I've got twelve
lions in a garden ; if they could only get hold of the
lad they 'd soon tear him to pieces."

So the old dame said it would be eaey enough to get
him there. She would shatn sick, and say she felt no
poorly, nothing would do her any good but lion's milk.
All that the lad lay and listened to ; and when he got up
in the morning his mother said she was worse than she
looked, and she thought she should never he right again
unless she could get some lion's milk.

"Then I'm afraid you'll be poorly a long time,
mother," sud the lad, "for I'm sure I don't know
where any is to be got."

"Oh I if that be all," said the Troll, "there's no
lack of lion's milk, if we only had the man to fetch it : "

U.g.VK.yC00glc

164 H0B8K TALES.

and then he went on to say how hiB brother had a gar-
den nnth twelve lions ia it, and how the lad might
have the key if he had a mind to milk the lions. So
the lad took the key and a milking pail, and strode off;
and when he unlocked the gate and got into tlie garden,
there stood all the twelve liona on their hind-paws,
rampant and roaring at him. But the lad laid hold of
the biggest, and led him about by the fore-pa^ra, and
dashed him against stocks and stones, till there wasn't
a bit of him left but the two paws. So when the rest
saw that, they were so afraid that they crept up and lay
at his feet like so many curs. After that they followed "
him about wherever he went, and when be got home,
they lay down outside the house, with their fore-paws
on the door sill.

" Now, mother, you'll soon be well," said the lad,
when he went in, " for here is the lion's milk."

He had just milked a drop in the pail.

But the Troll, as he lay in bod, swore it was all a
lie. He was sure the lad was not tlie man to milk
lions.

When the lad heard that, he forced the Troll to get
out of bed, threw open the door, and all the lions rose
up and seized the Troll, and at last the Ud had to make
them leave their hold.

That night the Troll began to talk to the old dame

.yCOOgIC

THB BLUB BELT.

165

aguD. " 1 'm sure 1 can't tell how to put this lad out
of the way—he is eo awfully strong ; can't you think
of some way?"

" No !" said the old dame, " if you can't tell, I'm
sure I can't."

" Well ! " said the Troll, " I hare two brothera in
a castle ; they are twelve times ae strong as I am, and
that's why I was turned Out and had to put up with this
&rm. They hold that castle, and rotmd it there is an
orchard with apples in it, and whoever eats those apples
sleeps for three days and three nights. If we could
only get the lad to go for the iniit, he wouldn't be able
to keep from tasting the apples, and as soon as ever he
fell asleep my brothers would tear him in pieces."

The old dame sud she would sham sitik, and say
she could never be herself again unless she tasted those
apples ; for she bad set her heart on them.

All this the lad lay and listened to.

When the morning came the old dame was so
pooriy that she c uldn't utter a word but groans and
aighs. She was sure she should never be well again,
unless she bad some of those apples that grew in the
orchard near the castle where the man's brothers lived ;
only she had no one to send for them.

Oh 1 the lad was ready to go that instant ; but the
eleven lions went with him. So when he came to the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

166 NOBHE TALES.

orchard, he climbed up into the apple tree and ate as
many applee as be could, and he bad scarce got down
before he fell into a deep Bleep ; but the lions all lay
round hitn in a ring. The third day came the Troll's
brothers, but they did not come in man's shape. They
came snorting like man-eating Bteeds, and wondered
who it was that dared to ba there, and swd they wonld
tear him to pieces, so small that there should not be a
bit of him left. But up rose the lions and tore the
Trolb into small pieces, so that the place looked as if a
dungheap had been tossed abont it ; and when they had
finished the Trolls they lay down again. The lad did
not wake till late in the afternoon, and when he got on
his knees and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he began
to wonder what had been going on, when he saw the
marks of hoofs. But when he went towards the castle,
a maiden looked out of a window who had seen all that
had happened, and she said, —

" You may thank your stars you weren't in tliat
tussle, else you must have lost your life."

" What ! I lose my life ! Ko fear of that, I think,"
said the lad.

So she begged him to come in that she might talk
with him, for she hadn't seen a christian soul ever since
she came there. But when she opened the door ibs
lions wanted to go in too, but she got so fHghtened,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THI BLUB BILT. 167

that she began to ficream, and so tho lad let them lie
outside. Then the two talked and talked, and the lad
attked liow it came that she, who was bo lovely, could
put up with those ugly Trolls. She never wished it,
she said; 'twas quite against Ijer will. They had
seized her by force, and she was the King of Arabia's
daughter. So they talked on, and at last she asked
him what he would do; whether she should go back
home, or whether he would have her to wife. Of
course he would have her, and she shouldn't go home.

After that they went round the castle, and at last
ihey came to a great hall, where the Trolls' two great
swords bung high up on the wall.

" I wonder if you are man enough to wield one of
these," said the Princess.

"Who? — I?" saidthelad. "'T would be a pretty
thing if I could n't wield one of these."

With that he put two or three chairs one a-top of
the other, jumped up, and touched the biggest sword
with his finger tips, tossed it up in the air, and caught
it again by the hilt ; leapt down, and at the same time
dealt such a blow with it on the floor, that the whole
ball shook. After be had thus got down, he thrust the
sword under his arm and carried it about with him.

So, when they had lived a little while in the castle,
the Princess thought she ought to go home to her

U.g.VK.yC00glc

IttS NORSE TALES.

parents, and let them know what bad become of her ;
80 tbey loaded a sbip, and she set aful from the castle.

After sbe bad gone, and the lad had wandered
about a little, he called to mind that be had been sent
on an errand thitber, and bad come to fetch sometbing
for his mother's bealtb ; and tbongb he aiud to himself,
" After all, Uie old dame was not 80 bad but that she's
all right by this time," — still be thought be ought to
go and just see how sbe was. 80 he went and fonnd
both the man and his mother quite ft«8h and hearty.

" What wretches you arc to live in this beggarly
hut," md the lad. " Come with me up to my castle,
and you shall see what a fine fellow I am."

Well I they were both ready to go, and on the way
hie mother talked to him, and asked, " How it was he
had got so strong?"

" If you must know, it came of that blue belt whicb
lay on the hilt-side that time when you and I were out
begging," said the lad.

" Have you got it still ?" asked she.

" Yes," — be bad. It was tied round his waist.

" Might she see it?"

" Yes, she might ;" and with that he pulled open his
waistcoat and shirt to show it her.

Then sbe seized it with both hands, tore it off, and
twisted it round her fist.

.yCOOgIC

THE BLUE BELT. 169

" Now," she cried, " what shall I do with such a
wretch as yon ? I'll juBt give you one blow, and dash
your brains out I"

" Far too good a death for each a scamp," scud the
Troll. "No! let's first bum out his eyes, and then
turn him adrift in a little boat."

So they homed out his eyes and turned him adrift,
in spite of hia prayeis and tears; but, as the boat
drifted, the lions swam after, and at last they laid hold
of it and dragged it ashore on an island, and placed the
lad under a fir tree. They caught game for him, and
they plucked the birds and made him a bed of down ;
bnt he was forced to eat his meat raw, and be was
blind. At last, one day the biggest lion was chasing a
hare which was blind, for it ran stnught over stock and
stone, and the end was, it ran right ap against a fir-
stump and tumbled head over heels across tiie field
right into a spring ; but, lo ! when it came out of the
spring It saw its way quite plwn, and so saved its life.

" So, so ! " thought the lion, and went and dragged
the lad to the spring, and dipped him overhead and ears
in it. So, when he had got his sight again, he went
down to the shore and made signs to the lions that they
should all lie close together like a raft ; then he stood
upon Uieir backs while they swam with him to the mun-
land. When he had reached the shore he went up
1

U.g.VK.yC00glc

170 KOKSE TAI.IH

into a birchen copse, and made die liona lie qniet.
Then he stole up to the coetle, like a thief, lo see if he
could n't lay hands on his belt ; and when he got to the
door, be peeped through the keyhole, and there he eaw
\m belt hanging up OTer a door in the kitchen. So he
crept eoflly in across the fioor, for there was no one
there ; but, aa soon as he had got hold of the belt, he
Itegan to kick and stamp about as though he were mad.
Just then his mother came rushing out, —

" Dear heart, my darling little boy ! do give me
the belt again," she said.

" Thank you kindly," sud he. " Now you shall
have the doom you passed on me," and he fulfilled it
on the spot. When the old Troll heard that, he came
in and he^ed and prayed so prettily that he might
not be smitten to death.

" Well, you may live," said the lad, " but yoa shall
undergo tlie same punishment you gave me;" and so he
burned out the Troll's eyes, and turned lilin adrift on
tlie sea in a little boat, but he had no lions to follow
him.

N^ow the lad was all alone, and ho went about
longing and lon^ng for the Princess ; at last he could
bear it no longer ; he must set out to seek her, his heart
was so bent on having her. So he loaded four ships and
set sail for Arabia. For some time they had fair wind

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THK BLUE BELT. 171

and fine weather, but after that ' they lay wind-hoimd
under a rocky island. So the sailors went anhore and
strolled about to spend Uie time, and there they found
a huge egg, almost as big as a little house. So they
began to knock it about with large stones, but, after
all, they could not crack the shell. Then the lad came
up with his Bword to see what all the noise was about,
and when he saw the egg, he thought it a trifle to
crack it ; so he gave it one blow and the egg split, and
out came a cliicken as big as an elephant.

" Now we have done wrong," stud the lad ; " this
can cost us all our lives ;" and then he asked his sailors
if they were men enough to sail to Arabia in four-and-
twenty hours, if they got a fine breeze. Yes! they
were good to do that, they said, so they set sail with a
fine breeze, and got to Arabia in three-and-twenty
hours. As soon as they landed, the lad ordered all the
sailors to go and bury themselves up to the eyes in a
sandhill, so that they could barely see the ^ips. The
lad and the captfuns climbed a high crag and sate down
under a fir. In a little while came a great bird flying
with an island in its claws and let it fall down on the
fleet, and sunk every ship. After it had done that, it
flew up to the sand-hill and flapped its wings, so that
the wind nearly took oS the heads of the sailors, and it
flew past the fir with such force that it turned the lad

U.g.VK.yC00glc

172 NOSSB TALKS.

right about, bat the lad was ready with his sword, aiid
gave the bird one blow and brought it down dead.

After that he went to the town, where every one
was glad because the king had gat his daughter back ;
but now the king had hidden her away somewhere
himself, and promised her band as a reward to any one
who could find her, and this though she was betrothed
before. Now as the lad went along he met a mtun who
had white bear-skins for sale, so he bought one of the
hides and put it on ; and one of the captains was to
take an iron chain and lead him about, and so he went
into the town and began to play pranks. At last the
newB came to the king's ears, that there never had
been such fun in the town before, for here was a white
bear that danced and cut capers just as it was bid.
So a messenger came to say the bear must come to
the castle at once, for the king wanted to see its tricks.
So when it got to the castle every one was afr^d, for
auch a beast they had never seen before ; but the
captfun said there was no danger unless they laughed
at it They mustn't do that, else it would tear them
to pieces. When the king heard that, he warned all
the court not to laugh. But while the fun was going
on, in came one of the king's muds, and began to lau^
and make game of the bear, and the bear fiew at her
and tore her, so that there was scarce a rag of her

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE BLUE BKLT. 173

left Then all the court began to bewail, and the
captain most of all.

" Stuff and noHBeiiBe," eaid the king ; " she's only a
maid, besides it's more my aflbir tiiao yours."

When the show was OTer, it was late at night.
" It's no good your going away, when it's so late."
said the king. " The bear had best uleep here."

" Perhaps It might sleep in the ingle by the kitchen
fire," said the captain.

" Nay," said the king, " it shall sleep up here, and
it shall have pillows and cushions to sleep on." So a
whole heap of pillows and cushions was brought, and
the captain had a bed in a side-room.

But at midnight the king came with a lamp in his
hand, and a big bunch of keys, and carried off the
white bear. He passed along gallery after gallery,
through doors aJid rooms, up-stairs and down-st^rs, till
at last he came to a pier which ran out into the sea.
Then the king began to pull and haul at posts and
pins, this one up and that one down, till at last a little
house floated up to the water's edge. There he kept
his daughter, for she was so dear to him that he had hid
her, so that no one could find her out. He left the
white bear outside while ha went in and told her how
it had danced and played its pranks. She sud she was
afraid and dared not look at it ; but he talked her over,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

174 H0B8E TALES.

Haying there was no danger, if she only wouldn't laugh.
Ho they brought the bear in, and locked the dour, aod
it danced and played its tricks ; but just when the fun
was at its height, the Princess's maid began to laugh.
Then the lad flew at her and tore her to bits, and the
Princess began to cry and sob.

" Stuff and nuusense," cried the king ; " ^1 this iuss
about B maid I I'll get you just as good a one again.
But now I think the bear had best stay here tUI mom-
iug, for I don't care to have to go and lead it along all
those galleries and ataire at this time of night."

" Well ! " stud the Princess, " if it sleeps here, I 'm
sure I won't."

But just then the bear curled himself up and lay
down by the stove ; and it was settled at last that t^e
Princess should sleep there too, with a hght burning.
But as soon as the king was well gone, the white bear
came and begged her to undo his collar. The Princess
was 80 scared she almost swooned away ; but she felt
about tiU she found the collar, and slie had scarce un-
done it before the bear pulled his head oS. Then she
knew him again, and was so glad there was no end
to her joy, and she wanted to tell her father at
once that her deliverer was come. But the lad would
not hear of it ; lie would earn her once more, he Bud.
Ko ui the morning, when they heard the king rattling

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THB BLUE BELT. 176

at the posts ontside, the lad drew ou the hide, and lay
down by the stove.

" Well, has it lain still ? " the king asked.

" I should think ho/' said tJie Princem ; " it hasn't
so much as turned or stretched itself once."

When they got up to the <-Astle i^ain, Uie captain
took the bear and led it away, and then thv lad threw
off the hide, and went to a tailor and ordered clothes
fit for a prince; and when they were-fitted on he went
to the king, and said he wanted to find tJie Princess.

"You're not the first who has wished the saaie
thingi" said the king," but they hare all tost their lives;
for if any one who tries «an't find her in four-and-
twenty hours his life is forfeited."

Yes; the lad knew all that. Still lie wished to
try, and if he couldn't findher, 'twas his look-out. Now
in the castle there was a band that played sweet tunes, and
there were fair maids to dance with, and so the lad-danced
away. When twelve hours were gone, the king said, —

" I pity you with all my heart. You're so poor a
hand at seeking ; you will surely lose your life."

" StuffI" said the lad ; " while there's life there's
hope I So long as there's breath in the body there's uo
fear; we have lots of time;" and so he went on
dancing till there was only one hour left.

'Hien he said he would be^ to search.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

176 HOSSB TALKS.

" It's no use now," said the king ; " time's np."

" Light your lamp ; out with yoar big bnuch of
keys," said the lad, " and follow me whither I wish to
go. There is etUI a whole hour left."

So the lad went the same way which the king had
led him the night before, and he bade the king unlock
door after door till they came down to the pier whidi
ran out into the sea.

" It's all no use, I tell you," said the king ;
" time's up, and this will only lead you right ont
into the sea."

" Still five minutes more," said the lad, aa he pulled
and pushed at the posts and pins, and the house floated
up.

" Now the time is up," bawled the king ; " come
hither, headsman, and take off his head."

" Nay, nay I" said the lad ; " stop a bit, there are
still three minutes I Oat with the key, and let me get
into this house."

But there stood the king and fumbled with his keys,
to draw out the time. At last he said he hadn't any key.^

" Well, if you haven't, I have^' taoA the lad, as he
gave the door such a kick that it fiew to splinters in-
wards on the floor.

At the door the Princess met him, and told her
father this was her deliverer, on whom her heart was

.yCOOgIC

THE BLUI BELT.

set. So she bad him ; and this was how the beggar bo;
c&me to marry the king's daughter of Arabia.

WHY THE BEAR IS STUMPY-TAILED.

/^NE day the Bear met the Fox, who came slinking
along with a string of fiah be bad stolen.

" Whence did yon get those from ? " asked the Bear.

"Oh! my Lord Bruin, I've been oat fishing and
caught them," said the Foz.

So the Bear had a mind to learn to fish too, and
bade the Fox tell him how he was to set abont it

" Oh I it's an easy craft for you," answered the Fox,
"and coon learnt. You've only got to go upon the ice,
and cut a bole and stick your Ua\ down into it ; and bo
yon must go on holding it there as long as you can.
You're not to mind if your taU smarts a little ; that's
when the fish bite. The longer you hold it there the
more fish you'll get; and then all at once out with it,
.with a cross pull sideways, and with a strong pull too."

Yes ; the Bear did as the Fox bad said, and held
his tfdl a long, long time down in the bole, till it was
fast frozen in. Then he pulled it out with a cross pull,
and it snapped short ofi*. That's why Bruin goes about
with a stumpy tail this very day.

.yCOOgIC

NOT A PIN TO CHOOSE BETWEEN THEM.

^NCE on a time there was a man, and he had a wife.

Now thia couple wanted to sow their fields, hut they
had neither seed-corn nor money to buy it with. But
they had a cow, and the man was to drive it into town
and sell it, t« get money to buy com for seed. ■ But
when it oame to the pioch, the wife daied not let her
husband start for fear he should spend the money in
drink, bo she set off herself with the cow, and took
besides a hen with her.

Close by the town she met a butcher, who asked, —

" Will you sell that cow. Goody ?"

" Yes, that I will," she answered.

" Well, what do you want for her ?"

" Ob ! I must have five shillings for the cow, but
you shall have the ben for ten pound."

" Very good I" sud Uie man ; " I don't wtmt the
hen, and you '11 soon get it off your hands in the town, bat
I'll give you five ^hilliugs for the cow."

Well, she sold her cow for five shillings, but there
was no one in the town who wooM give ten pound {at

U.g.VK.yC00glc

NOT A PIN TO CHOOSE BETWEEN THEH. 179

a lean tough old ben, so alie went back to the butcher,
and said, —

"Do all I can, I can't get rid of this hen, master I
you most take it too, as you took the cow."

" Well," said the butcher, " come along and we'll
see about it" Then he treated her both with meat
and drink, and gave her no much brand; that she lost
her head, and did n't know what she was about, and fell
hat asleep. But while she slept, the butcher took and
dipped her iuto a tar-barrel, and then laid her down
on a heap of feathers ; and when she woke up, ahe was
feathered all over, and began to wonder what had befsdlen
her.

" Is it me, or is it not me ? No, it can never be
me ; it must be some great strange bird. But what
shall I do to fiiid out whether it is me or not. Oh I I
know how I shall be able to tell whether it is me ; if
the calTes come and hck me, utd our dog Tray doesn't
bark at me when I get home, then it must be me, and
no one else."

' Now, Tray, her dog, had scarce set hia eyes on the
strange monster which came throngh the gate, than he
set up such a barking, one would have thought all the
rogues and robbers in the world were in the yard.

" Ah, deary me," sud she, " I thought bo ; it can't be
me surely." So rfie went to the straw-yard, and the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

180 NORSE TALKS.

calves wouldn't lick her, when tbey souffed in the strong
smell of tar.

" No, no t" she said, " it can't be me ; it must be
acme strange outlandish bird."

So she crept np on the roof of the safe, and began
to flap her arms, as if they had been wings, and was
just going to fly off.

When her husband saw all this, out he came with
his lifle, and began to take aim at her.

" Oh ! " cried his wife, " don't shoot, don't shoot !
it is only me,"

" If it's you," said her husband, " don't stand up
there like a goat on a house-top, but come down and let
me hear what you have to say for yourself."

So she crawled down again, but she hadn't a shil-
ling to shew, for the crown she had got from the butcher
she had throvm away in her drunkenness. When her
husband heard her story, he said, " You 're only twice
as silly as you were before," and he got so angry that
he made up his mind to go away from her altogether,
and never to come back till he had found three other
Goodies as silly as his own.

So he toddled ofl*, and when he had walked a little
way he saw a Goody, who was running in and out of a
newly-built wooden cottage with an empty sieve, and
every time she ran in, she threw her apron over the

.yCOOgIC

HOT A ntl TO CBOOSB BETWESN THEH. 181

sieve just B8 if she had something in it, and when she
got in she turned it upside down on the floor.

" Why, Goody! " heasbed, " what are you doing?"

" Oh," she answered, " I 'm only carrying in a little
Ban ; but I don't know how it is, when I'm outside, I
have the sun in my sieve, but when 1 get inside, some-
how or other I've thrown it away. But in my old
cottage I had pleoty of sun, though I never carried in
the least bit. I only wish I knew some one who would
bring the sun inside ; I'd give him three hundred dol-
]axs and welcome."

" Have you got an aze ? " asked the man. " If
you have, I'll soon bring the sun inside."

So he got an axe arid cut windows in the cottage,
for the carpenters had forgotten them ; then the bud
shone in, and he got his three hundred dollars.

" That was one of them," siud the man to himself, as
he went on his way.

After a while he passed by a house, out of which
came an awful screaming and bellowing ; so he turned
in and saw a Goody, who was hard at work bang^g
her husband across the head with a beetle, and over hie
head she had drawn a shirt without any slit for the
neck.

" Why, Goody 1 " he asked, " will you beat your
husband to death ? "

U.g.VK.yC00glc

182 HORSI TALES.

" No," she said, " I only must have a hole in this
shirt for hia neck to come through."

All the while the hushaod kept on screaming and
calling out, —

" Heaven help and comfort all who try on new
shirts. If anyone woald teach my Groody another way
of making a slit for the neck in my new shirts, I'd
give him three hundred dollars down and welcome."

" ! '11 do it in the twinkling of an eye," said the
man, " if you'll only give me a pair of scissors."

So he got a pair of scissors, and snipped a hole in
the necQc, and went off with his three hundred dollars.

" That was another of them," he said to himself, as
he walked along.

Last of all, be came to a farm, where he made up
his mind to rest a bit. So when he went in, the mis-
tress asked him, — ■

"Whence do you come, master?"

" Oh ! " said he, " I come from Paradise Place,"
for that was the name of his fann.

" From Paradise Place I" she cried, " you don't say
80 ! Why, then, you must know my second husband
Peter, who is dead and gone. G}od rest his soul."

For you must know this Goody had been married
three times, and as her first and last husbands had been
bad, she had made up her mind that the second only
was gone to heaven.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

MOT A PIN TO CE003B BETWEEN THEH. 183

" Oh yes," wid the man ; " I know him very
welt."

" Well," asked tba Gow^, " how do tUagB go with
him, poor dear boiiI ?"

" Only middliog," was the answer ; " he goes about
begging from house to house, and has neither food nor
a rag to hia hack. As for money, he hasn't a sixpence
to bless himself with."

" Mercy on me," cried out the Goody ; " he never
ought to go about such a figure when he left so much
behind him. Why, there's a whole cupboard full of old
clothes up-staJTB which belonged to him, besides a great
chest full of money yonder. Now, if you will take them
with you, yon shall have a horse and cart to carry
them. As for the horse, he can keep it, and sit on the
cart, and drive about from house to house, and then he
needn't trudge on foot."

So the man got a whole cart-load of clothes, and a
chest full of shiniDg dollars, and as much meat and
drink as be would ; and when be had got all be wanted,
he jumped into the cart and drove off.

" That was the third," be said to himself, as he
went along.

Now this Goody's third husband was a littie way
off in a field ploughing, and when he saw a strange
man driving ofT from the farm with his horse and cart.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

184 ROBSE TALES.

he went home and asked bis wife who that was that
had just started with the black horse.

" Oh, do you mean him ?" said the Goody ; " why,
that was a man from Paradise, who said that Peter, my
dear second husband, who is dead and gone, is in a sad
plight, and that he goes from house to honse begj^ng,
and has neither clothes nor money ; ho I just sent him
all those old clothes he left behind him, and the old
money bos with the dollars in it."

The man saw how the land lay in a trice, eo he
saddled his horse . and rode off from the tann at full
gallop. It wasn't long before he was close behind the
man who sat and drove the cart ; bnt when the latter
saw this he drove the cart into a thicket by the
side of the road, polled out a handful of hair from the
horse's tail, jumped up on a little rise in the wood,
where be tied the hair fast to a birch, and then lay
down under it, and began to peer and stare up at the
r*y.

"Well, well, if 1 evert" he said, as Peter the
third came riding up. " No I I never saw the like of
this in all my bom days ! "

Then Peter stood aud looked at him for some time,
wondering what had come over him ; bat at last he
asked, —

" What do yon lie there staring at ?"

U.g.VK.yC00glc

NOT A PIN TO CHOOSE BETWEEN THSU. 185

" No," kept OQ the man, " I never did see aaythiiig
like it ! — here ie a man going Htmght up to heaven on a
black horae, and here you see his horse's tail stiil hang-
iug in this birch ; and yonder up in the sky you see the
black horse."

Peter looked first at the man, and then at the sky,
and said, —

" I see nothing but the horse hair in the birch; that's
all I aee 1 "

" Of course you can't where you stand," said the
man ; " but just come and lie down here, and stare
straight up, and mind you don't take your eyes off the
sky ; and then you shall see what you ehall see."

But while Pet«r the third lay and ntared up at the
sky till his eyes filled with tears, the man from Para-
dise PUce took his horse and jumped on its back, and
rode off both nvitb it and the cart and horse.

When the hoofe thundered along the road Peter the
third jumped up ; but he was so taken aback when lie
found the man had gone off with his horse tliat he
hadn't the sense to run after him till it was too late.

He wae rather down in the mouth when he got
home to his Goody ; but when she asked him what he
had done with the horse, be said, —

" I gave it to the man too for Peter the second,
for I thought it wasn't right he should sit in a i^art,
1 2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

1S6 NOBiJE TALE8.

taid scramble about from house to house ; go now he
can sell the vxtt and buy himaelf a coach to diifo
about in."

" Thank you heartily I " said hie wife ; " I never
thought you could be so kind."

Well, when the man reached home, who had got
thu tax. hundred doUars and the cart-load of clothes and
money, he saw that all bis fields were ploughed and
sown, and the first thing he aoked his wife was, where
she had got the seed-com from.

" Oh," she said, " 1 have always beard that what a
man sows he shall reap, so I sowed the salt which our
friends the north-country men laid up here with us, and
if we only have ram I fancy it will come up nicely."

" Silly you are," said her husband, " and silly you
will be so long as you live ; but that is all one now, for
the rest are not a bit wiser than you. There is not a
pin to choose between you."

.yCOOgIC

ONE'S OWN CHILDREN ARE ALWAYS
PRETTIEST.

A SPORTSMAN went out once into a wood to shoot,
and he met a Snipe.

" Dear friend," said the Snipe, " don't shoot my
children I"

"How shall I know your children?" anked the
Sportsman ; " what are they like ? "

*' Oh t" stud the Snipe, " mine are the prettiest chil-
dren in all the wood."

" Very well," said the Sjmrtaman, " I 'II not shoot
them ; don't he afraid:"

But, for all that, when he came hack, there he had
a whole string of young snipes in his hand whieh he
had shot.

" Oh, oh ! " said the Snipe, " why, did you shoot
iny children after all?"

" What ! these your children ! " scud the Sportsman ;
" why, I shot the ugliest I could 6nd, that I did I "

" Woe is me !" said the Snipe ; " don't you know
that each one thinks his own children the prettiest in
the world?"

.yCOOgIC

THE THREE PRINCESSES OF WHITELAND.

I^XCE on a time there was a fisherman who lived
close by a palace, and fiahed for the Idng's table.
One day when he was out fishing he just caught no-
thing. Do what he would — ^however he tried with
bait and angle — ^there was never a sprat on his hook.
But when the day was far spent a head bobbed op out
of the water, and said, —

" If I may have what your wife beaia under her
girdle, you shall catch fish enough."

So the man answered boldly, " Yes;" for he did
not know that his wife was going to have a child.
After that, as was like enough, he caught plenty of fish
of all kinds. But when he got home at night, and told
his story, how he had got all that fish, his wife fen a
weeping and moaning, and was beside herself for the
promise which her husband had made, for she said, " I
hear a babe under my girdle."

Well, the story soon spread, and came up to the
castle; and when the king beard the woman's grief and

.yCOOgIC

TBE THREE PRINCESSES OF WHITELAND. 189

it8 cause, he seat down to say he would take care of
the child, and eee if he couldn't save it.

So the months weat on and on, and when her time
came the fisher's wife had a boy ; so the king took it
at OQce, and brought it up as his own son, until the lad
grew up. Then he begged leave one day to go out
fishing with his father; he had such a mind to go, he
said. At first the king wouldn't hear of it, but at last
the lad had his way, and went. So he and his iather
were out the whole day, and all went right and well
till they landed at night. Then the lad remembered
be had left his handkerchief, and went to look for it;
but as soon as ever he got into the boat, it began to
move off with him at such speed that the water roared
under the bow, and all the lad could do in rgwing
against it with the oars was no use ; so he went and
went the whole night, and at last he came to a white
strand, far, far away.

There he went ashore, and when he had walked
about a bit, an old, old man met him, with a long white
beard.

" What's the name of this land ?" asked the lad.

" Whiteland," said the man, who went on to ask
the lad whence he came, and what he was going to do.
So the lad told him all.

" Aye, aye I" oaid the man; "now when you have

.yCOOgIC

190 NOUSS TALES.

walked a little farther along the struid here, you'll come
to three Princesses, wbom yon will see stacding in the
earth up to their neckfi, with only their heads out.
Theo the firet — she is the eldest — will call out and beg
you so prettily to come and help ber ; and the second
will do the same ; to neither of these shall you go ;
make haste past them, as if you nei^er saw nor beard
anything. But the third yon shall go to, and do what
she asks. If you do this you'll have good luck — that's
all."

When the lad came to the first Princess, she called
out to him, and begged him so prettily to come to her,
bat he passed on as though he saw her not. In the
same way he passed by the second ; bnt to the third
he went straight up.

" If you'll do what 1 bid you," she said, " you may
bare which of ue you please."

"Yes;" be was willing enough; so she told bim
how three Trolls had Bet them down in the earth there;
bnt before they had lived in the castle up among the
trees.

" Now," she said, "you must go into that castle,
and let the Trolls whip you each one night for each of
us. If you can bear that, you'll set us free."

Well, the Ud said he was ready to try.

" When you go in," the Princess went on to say,

.yCOOgIC

TEE TBKEI FRUTOEBSXS OF WBITELAMD. 191

" you'il Bee two lions standing at the gate; but if you'll
only go right in the middle between them they'll do you
no hann. Then go straight on into a little dark room,
and make your bed. Then the Troll will come to whip
yea ; but if you take the flask which bangs on the wall,
and rub yourself with the ointment that's in it wherever
his lash (alls, you'll be as sound as ever. Then grasp
the sword that hangs by the side of the flask and strike
the Troll dead."

Yes, he did as the Princess told him ; he passed
in the midst between the lions, as if he hadn't seen
them, and went straight into the little room, and there he
lay down to sleep. The first night there came a Troll
with three heads and three rods, and whipped the lad
sonndly ; but he stood it till the Troll was done ; then
he took the flask aud nibbed himself, and gmHped the
sword and slew the Troll.

So, when he went out next morning, the PrincesBes
stood out of the earth up to their waists.

The next uight 't was the same story over again,
only this time the Troll had six heads and six rods, and
he whipped him hi worse thao the first ; but when he
went out next morning, the Princesses stood out of the
earth as far as the knee.

The third night there came a Troll that had nine
heads and nine rods, and he whipped and flogged the

.yCOOgIC

192 HOBSE TALKS.

lad BO long that he fainted awa^ ; then the Troll took
him up and dashed him against the wall ; but the shock
brought down the flask, which fell on the lad, burst, and
spilled the ointment all over him, and so he became as
strong and sound as ever again. Then he wasn't slow j
he grasped the sword and slew the TroU ; and nest
morning when he went out of the castle the Princesses
stood before him with all their bodies out of the earth.
So he took the youngest for his Queen, and lived well
and happily with her for some time.

At last he began to long to go home for a little to
see his parents. His Queen did not like this ; bnt at
last his heart was so set on it, and he longed and longed
so much, there was do holding him back, so she stud, —

" One thing you must promise me. This. — Only to
do what your father begs you to do, and not what your
mother wishes ; " and that be promised.

Then she gave him a ring, which was of that kind
that any one who wore it might wish two wishes. So
he wished himself home, and when he got home his
parents could not wonder enough what a grand man
their son had become.

Now, when he had been at home some days, his
mother wished him to go tip to the palace and show the
king what a fine fellow be bad come to be. But his
father said, —

.yCOOgIC

THK THBEE PBIHCEBSKS OF WHITILAND. 193

" No I don't let bim do that ; if he does, we shan't
have any more joy of him this time."

But it waB DO good, the mother begged and prayed
so long, that at last he went. So when ha got up to
the palace, he was far braver, both in clothes and array,
than the other king, who didn't quite like this, and at
last he sfud, —

" All very fine ; but here you can see my queen,
what like she is, but I can't see yours, that I can't.
Do you know, I scarce think Bhc's bo good-looking as
mine."

"Would to Heaven," said the young king, " she
were standing here, then you'd see what she was like."
And that instant there she stood before them.

But she was very woeful, and said to him, —

" Why did you not mind what I told you ; and
why did you not listen to what your father said ? Now,
I must away home, and as for you, you have had both
your wishes."

With that she knitted a ring among his hair with
her name on it, and wished herself home, and was off.

Then the young king was cut to the heart, and
went, day oat day in, thinking and thinkuig hov/
he should get back to his queen. "I'll just try," he
thought, " if I can't leam where Whiteland lies ■" and
so he went out into the world to ask. So when he had

E

U.g.VK.yC00glc

194 K0R8E TALES.

gone a good way, he come to a high hill, and there he
met one who wae lord over all the beaste of the wood, for
they all came home to him when he blew hiB horn ; so
the king ashed if he knew where Whiteland waa ?

" No, I don't," eaid be, " bnt Til ask my beaste."
Then he blew his horn and called thetn, and asked if
any of them knew where Whiteland lay ? but there was
no beast that knew.

So the man gave him a pair of snow-shoes.

" When you get on these," he said, " you'll come
to my brother, who lives hundreds of miles off ; he is
lord over all the birds of the tur. Ask him. When
you reach his house, just turn the shoes, m that the toes
point this way, and they'll come home of themselves."
So when the king reached the house, he turned the shoes
as the lord of the boastB had said, and away they went
home of themselves."

So he asked again after Whiteland, and the man
called all the birds with a blast of his horn, and asked
. if any of them knew where ^Hiiteland lay ; bnt none
of the birds knew. Now, long, long after the rest of
the birds, came an old eagle, which had been away ten
round years, but he couldn't tell any more than the rest.

" Well ! well I " stud the man, " 1 'II you lend a pair
of snow-shoes, and when you get them on, they'U carry
you to my brother, who livea hundreds of miles off ;

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THB THREE PRINCESSES OP WHITELAND. 195

he's lord of all the fish in the aea ; jou'd better ask him.
But don't forget to turn the toes of the shoes this way."

The king was full of thanke, got on the shoes, and
when he came t« the man who was lord over the fish of
the sea, he turned the toes rotmd, and so off the; went
home like the other pur. After that, he asked again
after Whiteland.

So the man called the Ssh with a blast, bat no fish
could tell where it lay. At last came an old pike, which
they had great work to call home, he was such a way
off. So when they asked him he said, —

" Know it [ ! should think I did. I've been cook
there ten years, and to-morrow I'm going there ag^n ;
for now, the queen of Whiteland, whose king is away,
is going to wed another husband."

" Well t" said the man, " as this is so, I'll give you
a bit of advice. Hereabouts, on a moor, stand three
brothers, and there they have stood these hundred years,
fighting about a hat, a cloak, and a pair of boots. If
any one has these three things, he can make himself in-
visible, and wish himself anywhere he pleases. You
can tell them yon wish to try the things, and after that,
you'll pass judgment between them, whose they shall
be."

Tes I the king thanked the man, and went and did
aa he told him.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

196 KORBE TALES.

" What's all thifl ? " he said to the brothers. " Why
do you stand here Bghting for ever and a day ? Jnet
let me try these things, and I '11 give judgment whose
they Bhall be,"

They were very willing to do this ; but as soon as
he had got the hat, cloak, and boots, he stud, —

" When we meet next time 1 '11 tell you my judg-
ment," and with these words be wished himself away.

So as he went along up in the air, be came np
with the North Wind.

" Whither away ? " roared the North Wind.

" To Whiteland," s^d the king ; and then be told
him all that had befallen him.

" Ah," said the North Wind, " you go faster than
I — you do ; for you can go straight, while I have to
paff and blow roimd every turn and corner. But when
you get there, just place yourself on the stcurs by the
side of the door, and then I '11 come storming in, as
though I were going to blow down the whole castle.
And then when the prince, who is to have your queen,
comes out to see what 's the matter, just you take bim
by the collar and pitch him out of doors ; then 1 'II look
after him, and see if I can't carry him off."

Well — the king did as the North Wuid said. He
took his stand on the stairs, and when the North Vfiad
came, storming and roaring, and took bold of the castle

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THX THBBB PBINCBBSE8 OF WHITZLAND. 197

vail, BO that it shook agaiD, the prince came out to
see what was the matter. But as Boon aa ever he came,
the king caught him by the collar and t>itcbed him out
of doors, and then the North Wind caught him up and
carried him off. So when there was an end of him,
the king went into the castle, and at first his queen
didn't know him, he was so wan and thin, through
wandering so for and being so woeful; but when he
shewed ber the ring, she was as glad as glad could be ;
and so the rightful wedding was held, and the fame of
it spread far and wide.

.yCOOgIC

THE LASSIE AND HER GODMOTHER.

/~iNCE on a time a poor couple lived far, tar away in
a great wood. The wife was brought to bed, aod
had a pretty girl, but they were so poor they did not know
how to get the babe christened, for they had no money
to pay the parson's fees. So one day the father went
out to see if be could find any one who was willing to
stand for the child and pay the fees ; but though he
walked about the whole day from one house to another,
though all said they were willing enough to stand, no
one thought himself bound to pay the fees. Now,
when he was going home agun, a lovely lady met him,
drcBBed so fine, and who looked so thoroughly good and
kind ; she offered to get the babe christened, but after
that, she s^d, she must keep it for her own. The hus-
band answered, he must first ask lus wife what she
wished to do ; but when he got home and told his story,
the wife said, right out, " No I "

Next day the man went oat again, but no one
would stand if they had to pay the fees ; and though he
begged aud prayed, be could get do help. And agfun
as he went home, towards evening the same lovely lady

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE LAtlSlH AND HER OODUOTHER. 199

met him, who looked bo sweet and good, and she made
- htm the same offer. So he told his wife again how he
had fared, and this time she said, if he could n't get
any one to Rtand for his babe next day, they mui>t just
let the lady have her way, since she seemed so kind and
good.

The Uiird day, the man went about, bnt he couldn't
get any one to stand ; and eo when, towards evening,
he met the kind lady again, he gave his word she
should have the babe if she would only get it christened
atthefont. So nest momiug she came to the placewhere
the man lived, followed by two men to stand godfathers,
took the babe and carried it to church, and there it was
christened. After that she took it to her own house,
and there the little girl lived with her several years, aiid
her foster-mother was always kind and friendly to ber.

Now, when the lassie had grown to be big enough
to know right and wrong, her foster-mother got ready
to go on a journey.

'' You have my leave," she eaid, '' to go all over the
house, except those rooms which I shew you;" and
when she had said that, away she went

But the lassie could not forbear just to open one of
the doors a little bit, when — Pop ! out flew a Star. '

When ber foster-mother came back, she was very
vexed to find that the star had flown out, and she got

U.g.VK.yC00glc

200 K0B8E TAI^S.

very angry with her foater-dangliter, and threatened to
send ber away ; bat Ike child cried and begged bo hard
that she got leave to stay.

Kow, after a while, the foater-mother had to go on
another jonmey ; and, before she went, she forbade the
lassie to go into those two rooms into which she had
never been. She promised to be ware ; but when she
was left alone, she began to think and to wonder what
there could be in the second room, and at last she could
not help setting the door a little a-jar, just to peep in,
when— Pop I oat flew tJie Moon.

When bet foster-mother came home and found the
Uoon let out, she was very downcast, and s^d to the
lassie she mast go away, she could not stay with her any
longer. But the laSHie wept bo bitteriy, and prayed eo
heartily for forgiveness, that this time, too, she got
leave to stay.

Some time after, the foster-mother had to go away
again, and she charged the lassie, who by this time was
half grown np, moet earnestly that she mustn't try to
go into, or to peep into, the third room. Bat when her
foster-mother had been gone some time, and the lassie
was weary of walking about alone, all at once she
thought, " Dear me, what tun it would be just to peep
a little into that third room." Then she thought she
mustn't do it for her foster-mother's sake ; bat when the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THS LABSIB AND HIB OODHOTBEB. 201

bad thought came the second time, ehe could bold out no
longer ; come whst might she must and would look into
the room ; so Bhe just opened thtf door a tiny bit, when
—POP! out flew the Sun.

Bat when her foBter-mother came back and saw that
the sun had flown away, she was cut to the heart, and
8tad, " Now, there was no help for it, the IfiBBie must and
should go away ; she couldn't hear of her staying any
longer." Now the lassie cried her eyes out, and begged
and prayed bo prettily ; but it was all no good.

"Nayl but I must punish you I" B^d her foster-
mother ; " but you may have your choice, either to be
t^e loveliest woman in the world, and not to be able to
speak, or to keep your speech, and be the ugliest of all
women ; but away from me you most go."

And the lassie swd, " I would sooner be lovely."
So she became all at once wondrous fair ; but from that
day forth she was dumb.

So, when she went away from her foster-mother,
she walked and wandered through a great, great wood ;
but ibe &rther she went, the farther off the end seemed
to be. So, when the evening came on, she clomb up
into a tall tree, which grew over a spring, and there she
made herself up to sleep that night. Close by lay a
castle, and frvm that castle came early eveiy morning a
maid to draw water, to make the Prince's tea, from the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

202 K0H8B TALES.

Spring oTei which the lassie was sitting. So the mttid
looked down into the spring, saw the lovely fece in
the water, and thought it waa her own ; t^eo ebe flimg
away the pitcher, and ran home ; and, when she got
there, she tossed op her head and said, " If I'm so
pretty, I'm far too good to go and fetch water."

So another maid had to go for the water, but the
same thing happened to her ; she went back and said
she was far too pretty and too good to fetch water from
the spring for the Prince. Then the Prince went him-
self, for he had a mind to see what all this could mean.
So, when he reached the spring, he too saw the image
in the water ; but he looked up at once, and became
aware of the lovely lassie who sate there up in the tree.
Then he coaxed her down and took her home ; and at
last made up bis mind to have her for his Queen,
because she was so lovely ; but his mother, who was
still alive, was against it.

"She can't speak," she said, " and maybe she's a
wicked witch."

But the Pnnce could not be content till he got
her. So after they had lived together a while, the
lassie was to have a child, and when the child came to
be bom, the Prince set a strong watch round her ; but
at the birth one and all fell into a deep sleep, and her
foster-mother came, cut the babe on its little finger,

.yCOOgIC

THE LABBI£ AMD UEB OODHOTBEII. 203

and smeared the queeD's mouth with the blood ; and
said, —

" Now you shall be as grieved as 1 was when you
let out the star;' and with these words she carried off
the babe.

But when those who were on the watch woke, they
thought the queen had eaten her own child, and the
old queen was all for burning her alive, but the Prince
was so fond of her that at last he begged her ofT, but
he had hard work to set her iree.

So the next time the young quetn was to have a
child, twice as strong a watch was set as the first time,
but the same thing happened over again, only this tame
her foster-mother said, —

" Now you shall be as grieved as I was when yon
let the moon out."

And the queen begged and prayed, and wept ; for
when her foster-mother was there, she could speak —
but it was all no good.

And now the old queen said she must be burnt,
but the Prince found means to beg her off. But when
the third <;hild was to be born, a watch was set three
times as strong as the first, but just the same thing
happened. Her foster-mother came while the watch
slept, took the babe and cut ita little finger, and
smeared the queen's mouth with the blood, telling her

U.g.VK.yC00glc

204 HORSE TALES.

DOW she should be as grieved as she had been when the
lasme let out the sun.

And now the Prince could not save her aay longer.
She must and should he burnt. But jnst as they were
leading her to the stake, all at once they saw her foster-
mother, who came with all three children — ^two she led
by the band, and the third she had on her arm ; and
BO she went up to the young queen and swd, —

" Here are your children ; now yoa shall have them
again. I am the Virgin Mary, and so grieved as yon
have been, so grieved was I when you let out sun, and
moon, and star. Now you have been punished for
what yoa did, and henceforth you diall have your
speech."

" How glad the Queen and Prince now were, all
may eauly think, but no one can telL After that they
were always happy ; and from that day even the Prince's
mother was very fond of the young queen.

.yCOOgIC

THE THREE AUNTS.

^NCE on a time there was a poor man who lived
in a hut tat away in the wood, and got his living
by ehooting. He had an only daughter who wa« very
pretty, and as she bad lost her mother when she was a
child, and was now half gtown up, she said she would
go into the world and earn her bread.

" Well, lassie I " said the father, " true enough you
have learnt nothing here but how to pluck birds and
roast them, but still you may as well try to eaia your
bread."

So Ae girl went off to seek a place, and when
she had gone a little while, she came to a palace.
There she stayed and got a place, and the queen liked
her BO well, that all the other maids got envious of her.
So they made up their minds to teD the queen how the
lassie said she was good to spin a pound of flax in four
and twenty hours, for you must know the queen was a
great housewife, and thought much of good work.

" Have you said this ? then you shall do it," said
the queen ; " hut you may have a little longer time if
you choose."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

206 HOfiSB TALE3.

Now, the poor lassie dared Dot aay she had never
spun in all her life, but she only be^ed for a room to
herself. That she got, and the wheel and the flax were
brought up to her. There she aat sad and weeping, and
knew not how to help herself. She pulled the wheel
this way and that, and twisted and turned it about, but
she made a poor hand of it, for she had never even seen
a spinning-wheel in her life.

But all at ODce, as she sat there, in came an old
woman to her.

" What ails you child ? " she said.

" Ah 1" said the lassie, with a deep sigh, " it's no
good to tell you, for you'll never be able to help me."

" Who knows?" said the old wife. "May be I
know how to help you after all."

Well, thought the lassie to herself, I may as well
tell her, and so she told her how her fellow-Bervants had
given out that she was good to spin a pound of flax in
four and twenty hours.

" And here am I, wretch that I am, shut up to spin
all that heap in a day and a night, when I have never
even seen a spinning-wheel in all my bom days."

" Well, never mind, child," said the old wonuui,
" if you'll call me Aunt on the happiest day of your life,
I'll spin this flax for you, and so you may just go away
and lie down to sleep."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE THREE AUNTS. 207

Yea, tlie laesie was willing enough, and off she went
and liiy down to sleep.

Next momiiig when she awoke, there lay til the
flax epun on the table, and that so clean and fine, no
one had ever seen such even and pretty yam. The
qaeen was very glad to get snch nice yarn, Mid she set
greater etore by the lassie than ever. But the rest were
still more envious, and agreed to tell the queen how the
lassie had said she was good to weave the yam she had
spun in four and twenty hours. So the queen scud again,
as she bad aaid it she must do it; but if she couldn't quite
finish it in four and twenty hours, she wouldn't be too
hard upon her, she might have a little more time. This
time, too, the lassie dared not aay Ko, but begged for a
room to herself, and there she would try. There she sat
again, sobbing and crying, and not knowing which way
to turn, when another old woman came in and asked, —

" What ails you, child ? "

At first the lassie wouldn't pay, but at last she told
her the whole story of her grief.

"Well, well! " atad the old wife, " never mind. If
you'll call me Aunt on the happiest dayof your life, I'll
weave this yam for you, and you may just be off, and
lie down to sleep."

Tes, the lassie was willing enough ; bo she went
away and lay down to sleep. When she awoke, there

uigiv?-: -.Google

208 NOBSB TALEa.

lay the piece of lineD od the table, woven bo neat and
close, no woof could be better. So the laeaie took tie
piece and ran down to the queen, who was very glad to
get such beautiful linen, and set greater store than ever
by the lassie. But as far the others, they grew still
more bitter against her, and thought of nothing but how
to find out something to tell about her.

At last they told the queen the lasue had said she was
good to make up the piece of linen into shirts in four
and twenty hours. Well, all happened as before ; the
lassie daied not say she could n't sew ; so she was shut
up agEun in a room by herself, and there she sat in tears
and grief, Bnt then another old wife came, who eaid
she would sew the shirts for her if she would call her
Annt on the happiest day of her life. The lassio waa
only too glad to do this, and then she did as the old
wife told her, and went and lay down to sleep.

Next morning when she woke she found the piece
of linen made up into shirts, which lay on the table —
and such beautiful work no one had ever set eyes on ;
and more than that, the shirts were all marked and
ready for wetu-. So, when the queen saw the work, she
was BO glad at the way in which it was sewn, that she
clapped her hiuids, and sud, —

" Such sewing I never had, nor even saw in all my
bom days ; " and afitfir that she was aa fond of the lasde
as of her own children ; and she sfdd to her, —

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TaS THREE ADNTS. 209

" Now, if you like to have the Prince for your hna-
baad, you shall have him ; for yon will never need to
hire workwomen. You can sew, and spin, and weave
all yourself."

So aa the laBsie was pretty, and the Prince was
glad to have her, the wedding soon came on. But just
as the Prince was going to sit down with the brido to
the bridal feast, in came an ugly old hag with a long
nose — I 'm sure it was three ells long.

So up got the bride and made a curtsey, and
said, —

" Good-day, Auntie."

" That Auntie to my bride," said the Prince. I

" Yes, she was ! "

" Well, then, she 'd better sit down with us to the
feast," ewd the Prince ; but, to tell yon the truth, both
he and the rest thought she was a loathsome woman
to have next you.

But just then in came another ugly old hag. She
had a back so hiunped and broad, she had hard work
to get through the door. Up jimiped the bride in a
trice, and greeted her with " Good-day, Auntie!"

And the Prince asked again if that were his bride's
aunt. They both said Yes ; so the Prince said, if that
were so, she too had better sit down with them to the
feast.

K 2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

210 MOESE TALES.

Bat they had 8<;arce taken their Beats before anoUier
ugly old bag came in, with eyes aa large as aaacers, and
BO red and bleared, 'twaa gruegome to look at her. But
up jumped the bride agun, with her " Good day, Aontie,"
and her, too, the Prince asked to Bit down ; but I can't
Bay he was very glad, for he thought to himself, —

" Heaven ehield me from such AuntieB as my bride
has I " So when he had sat a while, he could not keep
bis thoughts to himself any longer, but OE^ed, —

" But how, in all the world, can my bride, who is
Buch a lovely bssie, have such loathsome, mis-shapen
Aunts ? "

" I'll soon tell you how it is," said the Gist. " I
was just aa good-looldng when I was her age ; but the
reason why I've got this long nose is, because I was
always kept sitting, and poking, and nodding over my
Bpinning, and so my nose got stretched and stretched,
until it got as long aa you now see it"

" And I," said the second, " ever since I was young,
I have sat and scuttled backwards and forwards over
my loom, and that's how my back has got so broad
and bumped, as you now see it"

" And I," said the third, " ever since I was little, I
have sat, and Btared, and sewn, and sewn and stared,
night and day ; and that's why my eyes have got so
ugly and red, and now there's no help for them."

.yCOOgIC

THE TBBBI ADHT8.

" So I 80 1 " said the Prince, " 'twas lucky I came
to know this ; for if folk can get so ugly and loathsome
by all this, then my bride shall neither spin, nor weave,
nor sew all her life long."

THE COCK, THE CUCKOO, AND THE
BLACK-COCK.

f This is tuotber of those tales in which the birds' notes most be imitUed.J

/^NCE on a time the Cock, the Cuckoo, and the
Black-cock bought a cow between them. But when
they came to share it, and couldn't agree which should
buy the others out, they settled that he who woke
first in the morning should have the cow.

So the Cock woke first.

" Now the cow's mine ! Now the cow's mine 1
Hurrah t hurrah ! " he crew, and as he crew, up woke
the Cackoo.

"Half cow! Half cow!" sang the Cuckoo, and
woke up the Black-cock.

"A like share, a like share; dear friends, that's
only fail t Saw see I See saw I "

That's what the Black-cock said.

And now, can you tell roe which of tbem ought to
have the cow ?

.yCOOgIC

RICH PETER THE PEDLAR.

/~iNCE on a time there was a man whom they called

Rich Peter the Pedlar, hecause he used to traTel
about with a pack, and got bo much money, that he be-
came quite rich. This Rich Peter had a daughter, whom
he held bo dear tiiat all who came to woo her, were
sent about their budnese, for no one was good enough
for her, he thought. Well, this went on and on, and at
last no one came to woo her, and aa years rolled on,
Peter began to be a^d that ehe would die an old mud.

" I wonder now," he stud to his wife, " why suitors
no longer come to woo our' lass, who is bo rich. 'T would
be odd if no body cared to have her, for money she has,
and more she shall have. I think 1 'd better just go off
to the Stargazera, and ask them whom she shall have,
for not a soul comes to us now."

" But how," asked the wife, " can the Stargazers
answer that ?"

"Can't they?" eud Pet«r ; "why! they read all
things in the stars."

.yCOOgIC

BICH PBTKB THE PEDLAB. 213

So he took with him a great bag of money, and set
off to the Storgazere, and asked them to be 80 good aa
to look at the Btare, and tell bini the husband his
daiight«r was to have.

Well ! the Stargazers looked and looked, bat they
said they could see nothing about it But Peter begged
them to look better, and to tell him the tmUi ; he would
pay them well for it. So the Stargazers looked better,
and at last they said that his daughter's hnsband was to
be the miller's son, who was only just bom, down at
the mill below Rich Peter's house. Then Peter gave
the Stargazers a hundred dollars, and went home with
the answer he had got.

Now, he tiionght it too good a joke that his daughter
(thould wed one eo newly bom, and of such poor estate.
He said this to his wife, and added, —

" I wonder now if they would sell me the boy ;
then I'd soon put him ont of the way ?"

" I daresay they would," said his wife ; " you know
they're very poor."

So Peter went down to the mill, and asked the
miller's wife whether she would sell him her son ; she
should get a heap of money for him ?

" No I" that she wouldn't.

"Weill" said Peter, "I'm sure I can't see why
yoa shouldn't ; you've bard work enough as it is to keep

.yCOOgIC

214 NORSE TALES.

hunger out of the Louse, and the boy woo't make it
earner, 1 think."

But the mother was bo proud of the boy, she
couldn't part with him. So when the miller came
home, Peter said the same thing to him, and gave
his word to pay sis hundred dollars for the boy, so
that they might buy themselvee a farm of their own,
and not have to grind other folks' com, and to staire
when they ran short of water. The miller thou^t
it was a good bargain, and he talked over his wife ;
and the end was, that Rich Peter got the boy. The
mother cried and sobbed, but Peter comforted her by
saying, the boy should be well cared for ; only they
bad to promise never to ask after him, for he said
he meant to send him far away to other lands, so
that he might learn foreign tongues.

So when Peter the Pedlar got home with the boy,
he sent for a carpenter, and had a little chest made,
which was so tidy and neat, 'twas a joy to see. This
he made water-tight with pitch, put the miller's boy
into it, locked it up, and threw it into the river, where
the sb^am carried it away.

'• Now, I'm rid of him," thought Peter the Pedlar.

But when the chest had floated ever so tar down the
stream, it came into the miU-head of anotJier mill, and
ran down and hampered the shaft of the wheel, and

.yCOOgIC

BlCU PBTSB THB PKDLAR. 216

stopped it. Out came the miller to see what stopped
the mill, fomid the chest, oDd took it up. So wbea he
came home to dinner to his wife, he said, —

" I wooder now whatever there can be inside this
cheat which came floating down the mill-head, and
stopped our mill to-day ?"

"That we'll soon know," said his wife; "see, there's
the key in the lock, just turn it."

So they turned the key and opened the chest, and
lo 1 there lay the prettiest child you ever set eyes on.
So they were both glad, and were ready to keep the
child, for they bad no children of their own, and were
so old, they could now hope for none.

" Kow, after a little while, Peter tiie Pedlar began
to wonder how it was no one came to woo his daugh-
ter, who was BO nch in luid, and had so much ready
money. At last, when uo one came, off he went again
to the Stargazere, and offered a heap of money if they
could teD him whom his daughter was to have for a
bosband.

" Why 1 we have told you already, that she is to
have the miller's son down yonder," said the Stargazera.

" All very true, I daresay," said Peter the Pedlar ;
" but it BO happens he's dead ; but if you can tell me
whom she's to have, I'll give you two hundred dollars,
and welcome."

.yCOOgIC

216 SOBSE TALES.

So the Staigazers looked at the stars again, bat
they got quite cross, and aaid, —

" We told you before, and we tell yon now, she is to
have the mUler's son, whom yon threw into the river,
and wished to make an end of; for he is alive, safe and
sound, in such and such a mill, far down the stream."

So Peter the Pedlar gave them two hundred dollars
for this news, and thought how he could beat be rid of
the miller's sou. The first thing Peter did when he
got home, was to set off for the mill. By that time
the boy was so big that he had been confirmed, and
went about the mill and helped the miller. Such a
pretty boy you never saw.

" Can't you spare me that lad yonder?" said Peter
the Pedlar to the miller.

"No! that I can't," he answered; "I've brought
him up as my own son, and he has tamed out so well,
that DOW he's a great help and aid to me in the tnill,
for I'm getting old and past work."

"It's just the same with me," said Peter the
Pedlar ; " that's why I'd like to have some one to learn
my trade. Now, if you'll ^ve bim op to me, I '11 give
you six hundred dollars, and then you can buy yourself
a farm, and live in peace and quiet the rest of your days."

Yes I when the miller heard that, he let Peter
the Pedlar have the lad.

.yCOOgIC

BIGH PETEB THE PEDL&R. 217

Then the two travelled about fer and wide, with
their packs and wares, till they came to an inn, which
lay by the edge of a great wood. From this Peter the
Pedlar eent the lad home with a letter to his wife, for
the way was not bo long if you took the short cut across
the wood, and told him to tell her she was to be sure
and do what was written in the letter as quickly as she
could. Bat it was written In the letter, that she was to
have a great pile made there and then, fire it, and cast
the miller's sou into it If she didn't do that, he'd
bum her alive himself when be came back. So the lad
set off with the letter across the wood, and when even-
ing came on he reached a house far, far away in the
wood, into which he went ; but inside he found no one.
In one of the rooms was a bed ready made, so he threw
himself across it and fell asleep. The letter he had stuck
into his hat-hand, and the bat he pulled over his face.
So when the robbers came back — ^for in that house
twelve robbers had ^eir abode — and saw the lad lying
on the bed, they began to wonder who he could be, and
one of them took the letter and broke it open, and
read it.

"Hoi hoi" said he; " this comes from Peter the
Pedlar, does it? Now we'll play him a trick. It
would be a pity if such an old niggard made an end of
such a pretty lad."

L

U.g.VK.yC00glc

218 HOBSB TALES.

So the robbers wrote uiother letter to P^er the
Pfldlar's wife, aod fastened it under his hat-band while
he slept ; and in that they wrot^ that as aoon as ever
she got it she was to make a wedding for her daoghter
and the miller's hoy, and give them horses and cstUe,
and household stii£^ and set them up for themselves Id
the &rm which he had under the hill ; and if he didn't
find all this done by the time he came back, she 'd smart
for it — that was all.

Next day the robbers let the ktd go, and when he
came home and delivered the letter, he said he was to
greet her kindly From Peter the Pedlar, and to say that
she was to carry out what was written in the letter as
Bocn as ever she conld.

" You must have behaved vwy well then," said Peter
Pedlar's wife to the miller's hoy, " if he can write so
about yoa now, for when yon set off, he was so mad
agunst yon, he didn't know how to put yon out of the
way." So she married them on the spot, and set th^
up for themselves, with horses, and cattle, and homse-
hold staff, in the &rm np imder the lull.

No long time after Peter the Pedlar came home,
and the first thiug he asked was, if she had done what
he had written in his letter.

*' Aye I aye 1 " sbe said ; " I thought it rather odd,
bat I dared not do anything else ;" and so Petar asked
where his daughter was.

L)in;« ...Google

RICH PITIB TBI FIDLAB. 219

" Why, yon know weUenongb where abe is," Bsid
hifl wife. " Where should she be bat up at the fium
■auier the hffl, as yon wrote in the letter."

So when Peter the Pedlar came to hear the whole
story, and came to see the letter, be got bo angry he
was ready to bnrst with rage, and off he ran op to the
&rm to the yonng couple.

*' It's all very well, my son, to say you have got my
daughter," he swd to the miller's lad ; " but if you wish
to keep her, you must go to the Dragon of Deepdykes,
and get me three feathers out of bis tnl ; for he who
has them ma^ get anything he chooses."

" But where shall I find him ? " said his 80O-in-4»w.

"I'm sore I can't tell," sud Peter the Pedlar;
" that's yom* look out, not mine."

So the hd set off with a stout heart, and after ho
had walked some way, he came to a king's palaee.

" Here I'll joBt step in and ask," he said to himself;
" for such great folk know more abont the world than
pthers, and periiaps I may hen learn the way to the
Dragon."

Then the King asked him whence he came, and
whither he was going ?

" Oh I " said the lad, " I'm going to the Dragon of
Deepdykes to plock three featiieta out of his tail, if I
on^ knew where to find him."

U.g.VK-.CoO'^lc''

220 KORSB TALKS.

" Yoa muBt take luck with you, then," said the King,
" for I never heard of any one who came back from that
search. But if you find him, juBt aek him from me why
I can't get clear water in my well ; for I've dug it out
time after time, and still I can't get a drop of clear
water."

" Yes, I'll be sure to aak him," said the lad. So
he lived on the fat of the land at the palace, and got
money and food when he left it.

At even he came to another king's palace ; and
when he went into the kitchen, the King came out of
the parlour, and asked whence he came, and on what
errand he was bound ?

" Oh I " said the lad, " I'm going to the Dragon of
Deepdykes to pluck three feathers oat of his taU."

" Then you must take luck with you," said the King,
" for I never yet heard that any one came hack who
went to look for him. Bat if you find him, be so good
as to aek him from me where my daughter b, who has
been lost bo many yeuB. I have bunted for her, and
had her name given out in every church in the country,
but no one can teU me anything about her."

" Yes, I'll mind and do that," said the lad ; and
in that palace too be lived on the best, and when he
went away he got both money and food.

So when evening drew on again he came at last to

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BICa PETER THE PBULAB. 221

anoUier king's palace. Here who ahonid come out into
the kitchen bat the Queen, and Bhe aabed him whence
he came, and on what errand he was boond ?

" I 'm going to the Dragon of Deepdykes to pluck
three feathers oat of his tail," said the lad.

" Then yoa'd better take a good piece of luck with
yoa," said the Queen, " for I never heard of any one
that came back from him. But if you find him, jost be
good enough to ask him &om me where I shall find
my gold keys which I have lost"

" Yes t I '11 be sure to ask him," said the lad.

Well I when be left the palace he came to a great
broad river ; and while he stood there and wondered
whether he should cross it, or go down along the bank,
an old hunchbacked man came up, and asked whither
he was going?

" Oh, I 'm going to the Dragon of Deepdykes, if I
could only find any one to t«ll where I can find him."

" I can teU you that," said the man ; " for here I
go backwards and forwards, and carry those over who
aie going to see him. He Uves just across, and when
you climb the hill you'll see his castle; but mind, if
you come to talk with him, to ask him irom me bow
long I'm to stop here and carry folk over."

" I'll be sure to ask him," said the lad.

So the man took him on his back and carried him

U.g.VK.yC00glc

232 M0B8K TALCS.

over the nver ; and when fae climbed the hill, he nw
the castle, and went in.

He found there a Priocen who lived with the Dragoc
all alone ; and she aaid, —

" Bat, dear friend, how can christian folk dare to
ocHne hither ? None have been here since I cune, and
yoa'd best be off as fast as yon can ; for as soon as the
Dragon comes home, he'll smeU you oat, and gobble
yon ap in a trice, and that'll make me so nnhat^y."

"Nayl nay[" stud the lad; "I can't go before
I've got three feathers out of his tail."

" Toa'U never get them,'* said the Princess ; " yoa*d
best be ofiF."

But the lad wouldn't go; he would wait for the
Dragon, and get the featlierB, and an answer to all his
qaestions.

" Well, since you're so steadfast, I'll see what I
can do to help you," said the Princess ; " jnat try to
lift that sword that hangs an the wall yonder."

No ; the lad could not even stir it.

" I thought so," said the Princess ; " but just take
a drink out of this flask."

So when the lad had sat a while, be was to try
agwi ; and then he could just stir it."

" Well ! you must take another drink," said the
Princess, " and then you may as well t«U me your
errand hither."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

RIOB PXns THK FEDLAB. 223

So he took auotber drink, and then he told her
how one king h&d begged him to aek the Dragon, how
it vna. he couldn't get clean water in his well ? — how
another had bidden him ask, what had become of hie
daughter, who had been lost maoy yean since ? — and
bow a queen bad begged him to ask the Dragon what
had become c^ her gold keys ? — and, last of ail, bow the
ferryman bad begged him to ask the Dragon, how long
he was to stop there and carry folk over ? When he
had done his story, and took hold of the sword, he oonld
lift it ; and when he had taken another drink, he could
brandish it

"Now," said the Prinoeas, "if you don't want the
Dragon to make an end of you, yoa'd best creep under
the bed, for ni^t is drawing on, and he'll soon be borne,
and then you must lie as still as you can, lest he sboold
find you out. And when we have gone to bed, I'll
ask bim, but you must keep your ears open, and snap
up all that he says ; and under the bed you mast lie
till all is titill, and the Dragon falls asleep ; then creep
out softly aud seize the sword, and as soon as he rises,
look out to hew off his head at one stroke, and at the
same time pluck out the three feathers, for else he'll
tear them out himself, Uiat no one may get any good by
them."

So the lad crept under the bed, and the Dragon
came home.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

224 NOBSE TALES.

" What & smell of chrisUaa flesh," said the
Dragon.

" Oh yes," aaid the Princess, " a raven came flying
with a man's bone in his bill, and perched on the root
No doubt it's that you smeL"

" So it is, I daresay," said the Dragon.

So the Princess served supper ; and after they had
eaten, they went to bed. But after they had lain a
while, the Princess began to toss about, and all at once
she started up and said, —

"Ah I ah!"

" What's the matter?" said the Dragon,

" Oh," sfud the Princess, " I can't rest at all, and
iVe had such a strange dream."

"What did you dreun about? Let's hear?" said tiie
Dragon,

" I thought a king came here, and asked you what
he must do to get clear water in his well."

" Oh," said the Dragon, " he might just as well
have found that out for himself. If he dug the well
out, and took out the old rotten stamp which lies at
the bottom, he 'd get clean water fast enough. But be
still now, and don't dream any more."

When the Princess bad lain a while, she began to
toss about, and at last she started up with her

"Ah! ah!"

.yCOOgIC

BICH PKTKR THE PEDLAB. 225

" What '8 the matter now ? " said the Dr^on.

"OhI I can't get any rest at all, and I've had
Buch a strange dream," said the Princess.

" Why, you seem fiill of dreams to-night," said the
Dragon ; " what was your dream now ? "

" I thoogbt a king came here, and asked you what
had become of his daughter who had been lost many
yuan since," said the Princess.

" Why, you are she," said the Dragon ; " but he 'U
never set eyes on you again. But now, do pray be
still, and let me get some rest, and don't let's have
any more dreams, else I'll break your ribs."

Well, the Princess hadn't lain much longer before
she began to toss about again. At last she started up
with her

"Ah! ah I"

" What I Are you at it again ? " said the Dragon.
" What 's the matter now ? " for he was wild and sleep-
surly, so that he was ready to fly to pieces.

"Oh, don't be angry," said the Princess; "but
I've had such a strange dream."

" The deuce take your dreams," roared the Dragon ;
" what did you dream this time ? "

" I thought a queen came here, who asked you to
tell her where she would find her gold keys, which she
has lost"

.yCOOgIC

226 H0B8E T1.LES.

" Oh," sud the Dragon, " abe '11 find them sooa
enou^ if she looks auMHig the bwihes where she la;
that time she wots of. But do no v le* me have do more
dreams, but sle^ in peace."

So they slept a while ; but then the Princess was
just as restleaa as ever, and at last she aoreamed out —

"Ah! ah!"

" You'll never behave till I ta^ak your neck,"
siud the Dragon, who was now bo wroth that sparks
of fire dew out of his eyes. " What 'a the matter
BOW ? "

"Oh, don't be so angry," said the Princess; " I
can't bear that ; but I've had audi a strange dream."

" Bless me !" said the Dragon, *' if I ever heard the
like of these dreuns — there's no end to them. And
pray, what did you dream now ? "

" I thought the ferryman down f^ the ferry came
and asked how long he was to stop tiiere and carry folk
over," said the Princess.

" The dull fool I " said the Dragon ; " he 'd soon be
free, if he chose. When any one comes who wants to
go across, he has only to take and throw him into the
river, and Bay, ' Now, carry folk over yourself till some
one sets you free.' But now, pray let's have an end
of these dreams, else I'll lead yoa a pret^ dance."

So the Princess let him deep on, But as soon as

.yCOOgIC

BICE PBTXB TBK PEDLAR. 227

aH was still, and the miller's lad heard tiiat t^ Dragon
snored, he crept out. Before it was light the Drag<ai
rose ; but he had scarce set both his feet on the floor
before the lad cat ofThis head, and plucked three feathera
oiU of his tail Then came great joy, and both the lad
and the Princess took as mwdi gold, and silver, and
money, and precious things as they could carry ; and
when they came down to the ford, they so puzzled the
ferryman with all they had to tell, that he quite forgot
to ask what tlie Dragon had sud about him till they
had got across.

" Halloa, you sir," he said, as they were going ofl*
" did you ask the Dragon what I begged you to
ask?"

" Tes I did," said the lad, " and he said, ' When
any one comes and wants to go over, you must throw
him into the midst of the river, and say, " Now, carry
folk over yourself till some one comes to set you free,'"
and then you '11 be free."

" Ah, bad luck to you," said the ferryman ; " had
you told me that before, you might have set me free
yourself."

So, when they got to the first palace, the Queen
asked if he had spoken to the Dragon about her gold
keys?

"Yes," said the lad, and whispered in the Queen's

U.g.VK.yC00glc

228 KOBSE TALES.

ear, " be aaid you must look among the bnahea where
you lay the day you wot of."

" Hush ! hush I Do n't say a word," said the
Queen, and gave the lad a hundred dollars.

When they came to the second palace, Uie King
asked if he had spoken to the Dragon of what he begged
him?

" Yes," «ud the lad, " I did ; and see, here is your
daughter."

At that the King was so glad, be would gladly have
given the Princess to the miller's lad to wife, and half
the kingdom beside ; but as he was married already, he
gave him two hundred dollars, and coaches and horees,
and as much gold and silver as he could carry away.

When he came to the third King's palace, out came
the King and asked if he had asked tlie Dragon of what
ht! begged him?

" Yes," said the lad, " and he said you must dig out
the well, and take out the rotten old stump which lies
at the bottom, and then you'll get plenty of clear water."

Then the King gave him three hundred dollu^ and
he set out home ; but he was so loaded with gold and
silver, and so grandly clothed, that it gleamed and
glistened &om him, and he was now tar richer than
Peter the Pedlar.

When Peter got the feathers he hadn't a word

.yCOOgIC

Bica FETEB TBI PEDLAR. 229

more to say against the veddiDg ; bnt whea be saw all
that wealth, he asked if there was much still left at the
Dragon's castle.

" Yes, T should think so," said the lad ; " there was
much more than I conld cany with me — so much, that
yoa might load many horses with it ; and if you choose
to go, you may he sure there '11 be enough for you."

So his son-in-law told him the way EO clearly, that
he hadn't to ask it of any one.

"But the horses," said the lad, "you'd best leave
this wde the river ; for the old ferryman, he'Ii cany you
over safe enongh."

So Peter set oS, and took with him great store of
food and many horses ; but these he left behind him on
the river's brink, as the lad had said. And the old
ferryman took him upon his back ; but when they had
come a bit out into the stream, he cast him into the
midst of the river, and said,' —

" Now you may go backwards and forwards here,
and carry folk over till you are set free."

And unless .some one has set him free, there goes
Rich Peter tha Pedlar backwards and forwards, and
carries folk across this very day.

.yCOOgIC

GERTRUDE'S BIRD.

TN those days when our Lord uid St. Peter wandered
upon eortli, they came oncfi to an old wife's house,
vho sat bakiDg. Her name was Gotrnde, and she had
a red mutch on her head. They had walked a long
way, and were both hungry, and our Lord be^ed hard
for a bannock to stay their hanger. Yea, they shoald
have it. So she took a little tiny piece o£ dough aod
rolled it oat, but ae she roQed it, it grew and grew till
it coTered the whole griddle.

Nay, that was too big ; they couldn't have that.
So she took a tinier bit still ; but when that was rtriled
out, it covered the whole griddle jost the same, and limit
banuock was too big, she aaid; they cooldn't have that
either.

The third time she took a still tiniei bit — id tii^
yon could scarce see it ; but it was dte same atoi; over
again — the baunock was too big,

" Well," said Gertrude,, " I can't give you ai^
tiling ; you must juat go without, for all these bannocks
are too big."

Then our Lord waxed wroth, and said, —

.yCOOgIC

qbrtbijdb'b bibd. 231

" Since you loved me bo little as to grudge me a
morsel of food, you Rhall have this pnniehment, — ;ou
Bhall become a bird, and seek your food between bark
and bole, and never get a drop to drink save when it
runs."

He had ecarce said the last word before she was
turned into a great black woodpecker, or Gertrude's
bird, and flew from her kneading-trough right np the
chimney ; and till this very day you may see her fiying
abont, with her red mutcfa on her head, and her body
all black, beeaniie of the soot in the chimney ; and so
she hacks and taps away at the trees for her food, and
whistles when rain is coming, for she is ever athirst,
and then she looks for a drc^ to cool her tongue.

.yCOOgIC

BOOTS AND THE TROLL.

i^NCE OD a time there was a poor man who had three
Gona. When he died, the two elder set off into the
world to try their luck, but the youngest they would n't
have with them at any price.

" As for you," they said, " you're fit for uotluDg
but to sit and poke about is the ashes."

So the two went oflf and got places at a palace —
the one under the coachman, and the other under the
gardener. But Boots, he set off too, and took witii him
a great kneading>trough, which was the only thing his
parents left behind them, but which the x)ther two would
not bother themselves with. It was heavy to carry,
but he did not like to leave it behind, and so, after he
had trudged a bit, he too came to the palace, and asked
for a place. So they told they did not want him, but
he begged so prettily that at last he got leave to be in
tie kitchen, and carry in wood and water for the
kitchen-maid. He was quick and ready, and in a little
while every one liked him; but the two others were duQ,
and 80 they got more kicks than halfpence, and grew

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BOOTS ABD THE TBOLT,. 233

quite enviouB of Boots, when they saw how jnncb better
he got OD.

Just oppoeite the palace, across a lake, lived a Troll,
who had seven silver ducks which swam oa the lake, so
tiiat they could be seen from the palace. These the
king had often longt^d for; and so the two elder brothers
told the coachman, — -

" If our brother only chose, he has said be could
easily get the king those seven silver- ducks."

You fbay fancy it wasn't long before the coachman
told this to tbe king ; and the king called Boots before
him, and said, —

" Your brothers say you can get me the silver
ducks ; so now go and fetch them."

" I'm sure I never thought or said anything of the
kind," said the Ud.

" You did say so, and yon shaQ fetch l^ero," said
the king, who would bold his own.

" Well ! well ! " said the lad ; " needs must, I sup-
pose ; but give me a bushel of rye, and a bushel of
wheat, and I'll try what I can do."

So he got the rye and the wheat, and put them
into the kneading-trough he had brought with him from
home, got in, and rowed across the lake. When he
reached the other side he began to walk along the
shore, and to sprinkle and strew the grun, and at last
12

U.g.VK.yC00glc

234 NORSK TALES.

he coaxed the dacke into his kneading-trougih, snd rowed
back as fast as ever he could.

When be got half over, the Troll came out of hie
houee and set eyes on him.

'* Halloa 1 " roared cot the Troll ; " is it jou that
has gone off with my seven silver ducks."

" Ate I AYE !" said the lad.

" Shall you be back aoon?" asked the TrolL

" Very likely," said the lad.

So when he got back to tlie king, vitii 'the seven
silver dacka, he was more liked than ever, and eveo the
king was pleased to say, " Well donel" But at Hob
his brotheia grew more and more spitefid and envioos ;
and BO they went and told the coachman that their
brother had said, if he choee, faa waa man enough to
get Uie kmg the Troll's bed-K][uiIt, which had a gold
patch and a silver patch, and a silver patch and a gold
patch ; and this time, too, the coachman was not slow
in telling all tbis to the king. So the king said to die
lad, how his brothers had said he was good to steal the
TroU's bed-quilt, with gold and silver patches ; bo now
he must go and do it, or lose his life.

Boots answered, he had never thought or said any
such thing ; but when he found there was no help for it,
he begged for three days to tbmk over the matter.

So when the three days were gone, he row«d over

.yCOOgIC

BOOTS AlTD THE TROLL. 235

in Ilia kneadiDg^trougli, and went spying about. At
last he saw those ia the Troll's cave come out and
tuuig the quilt out to air, and as soon as ever they had
gone back into the face of the rock, Boots pulled the
quilt down, and rowed away with it as faat as he
could.

And when he was half across, out came the Troll
and set eyes on him, and roared out, —

" Halloa t It ia yoii who took my seven silver
ducks?"

" Ays 1 AYK I" said the lad.

" And now, have yon taken my bed-quilt, with
silver patches and gold patches, and gold patches and
silver patches ?"

" Aye I aye 1" said the lad.

" Shall you come back agun ?"

" Very likely," efud the lad.

But when he got back with the gold and silver
patch-work quilt, every one was fonder of him than
ever, and he was made the king's body-servant.

At this, the other two were still more vexed, and to
be revenged, they went and told the coachman, —

" Now, our brother has sud, he is man enough
to get tlie king the gold harp which the Troll has, and
that harp is of such a kind, that all who listen when it
is played grow glad, however sad diey may be."

.yCOOgIC

236 KOBSB JALES.

Yes I the coachman went aod told the king, uid he
said to the lad, —

" If you have said this, you shall do it. If you do
it, you shall have the Princess and half the kingdom.
If yoa don't, you shall lose your life."

" I'm Buie I never thought or said anything of the
kind," sud the lad ; " but if there's no help for it, I may
as well try ; but I must have six da , s to think about it."

Yes 1 he might have six days, but when they were
over, he must set out.

Then he took a tenpenay nail, a birch-pin, and a
waxen taper-end in his pocket, and rowed across, and
walked up and down before the Troll's cave, looking
stealthily about him. So when the Troll came out, he
saw him at once.

" Ho, ho I" roared the Troll ; " is it you who took
my seven silver ducks?"

" Ate 1 ATE t " said th& lad.

" And it is you who took my bed-quilt, with the
gold and silver patches?" asked the Troll.

" Aye I aye I " said the lad.

So the Troll caught hold of him at once, and took
htm off into the cave in the ftice of the rock,

" Now, daughter dear," said the TroH, " I've caught
the fellow who stole the silver ducks and my bed-quilt,
with gold and silver patches ; put him into the fatten-

.yCOOglC

BOOTS ASD.THB TKOLL. 237

ing coop, and when he's fat, we'll kill him, and make
a feast for onr JneDds."

She was williog enough, and put him at once into
the &ttening coop, and there he stayed eight days, fed
on the beat, both in meat and drink, and as much as
he could cram. So, when the eight days were over,
the Troll said to his daughter to go down and cat tiim
__ in his little finger, that they might see if he were fat.
Down she came to the coop.

"Out with your httle finger!" she said.

But Boots stuck out his tenpenny-nul, and she cut
at it.

"Nay I nay! he's as bard as iron still," said the
Troll's daughter, when she got back to her father;
" we can't take him yet."

Afler another eight days the same thing happened,
and this time Boots stuck out his birchen pin.

" Well, he's a little better," she said, when she
got back to the Troll; "but still he'll be as hard as
wood to chew."

Bat when another eight days were gone, the Troll
told his daughter to go down and see if he wasn't fat now.

" Out with yoar little finger," said the Troll's
daughter, when she reached the coop, and this time
Boots stack ont the taper end.

"Now he'll do nicely," she stud.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

338 KOHSK TALKS.

« Will he?" said the TroU. " Well, then, I'll jart
sat off and ask thegueats ; meantime yoii mint kill him,
utd roast half aod boil half."

So when the Troll had been goDe a little while,
the daughter began to sharpen a great long knife.

" le that what ;oa're going to kill me with ?" asked
the Ud.

" Yes it is," said she.

"But it isn't sharp," aud the Ud. "Just let me
sharpen it for you, and then yon '11 find it easier work
to kill me."

So she let htm have the knife, and he began to
rub and sharpen it on the gnndstone.

" Jiist let me try it on one of your hair fAaita ; I
think it's about right now."

So he got leave to do that ; but at the same time
that he grasped the plait of hair, ho pulled back her head,
and at one gaah, cut off the Troll's daoghter'a head ; and
half of her he roasted and half of her he boiled, and
served it all up.

After that he dressed himself in her dothes, and sat
away in the comer.

So when the Troll came home with his gaests,
he called out to his daughter — for he thought aQ
the time it was his dau^ter — to come and take a
snack.

.yCOOgIC

BOOTS AND TBI TBOLL. 239

"No, thank yon," aaid the lad, " I don't care for
food, I'm so sad and downcasL

" Oh [ " B&id the Troll, " if that's all, you know the
cure ; take the harp, and play a tune on it."

f Yes I said the lad ; " but where has it got to ; I
can't find it."

" Why, you know well enough," said the Troll ;
" yon naed it last ; where should it bo but orer the door
yonder ?"

The lad did not wut to be told twice ; he took
down the harp, and went in and out playing tunes ; but,
all at once he sboved off the kneading trough, jumped into
it, and rowed off, so that the foam flew around the
trough.

After a while the Troll tboaght his daughter was a
long while gone, and went out to see what ailed her ;
and then he saw the lad in the trough, far, iar out on
the lake.

" Halloa ! Is it you," he roared, " that took my
seven eilver ducks?"

" Aye, ATI I " said the lad.

" Is it you that took my bed-quilt, with the gold and
silver patches?"

" Yesl" said the lad.

" And now you have taken off my gold harp ?"
screamed the TrolL

.yCOOgIC

240 MORBB TALSS.

" Yes ! " said the lad ; "I 've got it, aure enough."
" And haven't I eaten you up idler all, then ?"
" No, no I 'twas yonr own daughter you ate,"
answered the lad.

But when the Troll heard that, he wae so sorry, he
burst ; and then Boots rowed back, and took a whole
heap of gold and silver with him, aa much as the trough
could carry. And so, when he came to the palace with
the gold harp, he got the Princess and half the kingdom,
as the king had promised him ; and, as for bis brothers,
he treated them well, for he thought they had only
wished his good when they said what they had said.

.yCOOgIC

GOOSEY GRIZZEL.

i^NCE on a time there was a widower, who had a
housekeeper named Grizzel, who set her mutch
at him, and teazed him early and late to many her. At
last the man got so weary of her, he was at his wit's
end to know how to get rid of her.

So it fell on a day, between hay time and harrest,
the two went out to pull hemp. Grizzel's head was full
of her good looks and her handiness, and she worked
away at the hemp till she grew giddy from the strong
smell of the ripe seed, and at last down she fell flat,
fast asleep among the hemp. While she slept, her
master got a pair of scissors and cut her skirts short all
round, and then he rubbed her all over, face and all, first
with tallow and then with soot, till she looked worse
than the Deil himself. So, when Grizzel woke and saw
how ngly she was, she did n't know herself.

"Can this be me now?" said Grizzel. "Nay,
nay I it can never be me. So ugly have I never been ;
it's surely the Deil himself?"

Well ! that she might really know the truth, she

H

U.g.VK.yC00glc

242 N0B8B TALES.

went off and knocked at her master's door, and
asked, —

" Ib your Girzie at home the day, father ?"

" Aye, aye, our Girzie is at home safe enough,"
Bud the man, who wanted to be rid of her.

" WeD, well ! " she stud to herself, " then I can't
be his Qrizzel," and stole away ; and tight glad the man
was, I can tell yon.

So, when Bhe had walked a bit she came to a great
wood, where she met two thieves. " The very men for
my money," thought Grizzel, "since Z am die Deil,
thieves are jast fit fellows for me."

But the thieves were not of Uie some mind, not
they. As soon as they set eyes on her, they took to
their heels as fast as they could, for they thou^t the
Evil One was come to catch them. Bat it was no good,
for Grizzel was long-legged and swift-footed, and she
came ap with them before they knew where they were.

" If you're going out to steal, I'll go with yon and
help," sfud Grizzel, " for I know the whole ooontry
round." So, when the thieves beard that, they thought
they had fomid a good mate, and were no longer afraid.

Then they SEud they were off to steal a sheep, only
they didn't know where to lay hold of one.

" Oh 1" said Grizzel, " that's a small matter, for I
was maid with a farmer ever so long out in the wood

U.g.VK.yC00glc

GOOSEY QBIZZEL. 243

yoqder, antj I conld find the sheepfold, thou^ the night
were d^k ae pitch.

The thiev<<8 thought that grand ; and when they
came to the place, Grizzel was to go into the fold and
turn ODt the sheep, and they were to lay hold on it.
Now, the Bheepfold lay close to the wall of the room
where the farmer slept, so Orizzel crept quite softly
and carefully into the fold ; but, as soon as she got in,
sh« began to scream out to the thievea,

" Will yon have a wether or a ewe ? here are lots
to choose &om."

" Hueb, hush 1" said the thieves, " only take one
that is fine and fat."

" Yes, yes ! but will you have a wether or a ewe ?
will you have a wether or a ewe ? for here are lota to
choose from," screeched Grizzel.

" Hush, hush I" said the thieves again, "only take
one that's fine and fat ; it's all the same to us whether
it's a wether or a ewe."

" Tee I" screeched Grizzel, who stuck to her own ;
" bnt will yon have a wether or a ewe — a wether or
a ewe ? here are lots to choose from."

" Hold yonr jaw 1 " said the thieves, " and take &
fine fat one, wether or ewe, it's all one to us."

But just then out came the fanner in his shirt, who
had been waked by all this clatter, and wanted to see

U.g.VK.yC00glc

244 NOBSB TALES.

what was going on. So the ttueTeB to their heels, and
Grizzel after them, upsetting the farmer in her flight.

"Stopibojs! stop, boyal" she screamed; bnt the &r-
mer, who had only seen the black monster, grew bo afraid
that he could scarce stand, for he thought it was the
Deil himself that had been in his sheepfold. The only
help he knew was to go indoors and wake op the
whole house ; and they all sat down to read and pray,
for he had heard that was the way to send tjie Deil
about his business.

Now the next night the thieves said they most go
and steal a &t goose, and Grizzel was to shew them the
way. So when they came to the goosepen, Grizzel was
to go in and turn one out, for she knew the ways of the
place, and the thieves were to stand outside and catch it.
But as soon as ever she got in she began to scream, —

" Will you have goose or gander ? yon may pick
and choose here."

" Hush, hush [ choose only a fine fat one," said the
thieves.

" Yes, yes ! but will you have goose or gander —
goose or gander? you may pick and chocee," Gcn>amed
Grizzel.

" Hush, hush I only choose one that's fine and faX,
and it's all one to us whether it's goose or gander ; but
do hold your jaw," said they.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

aOOSBT OBIZZEL. 345

Bnt wliile Grrizzel and the thieves were settling this,
one of the geese began to cackle, and then another
cackled, and then the whole flock cackled and hissed,
and out came the farmer to see what all the Doise could
mean, and away went the thieves, and Gmzel after
them, at full speed, and the farmer thought again it
was the black Deil flying away ; for long-legged she was,
and she had no ekirta to hamper her.

" Stop a bit, boys 1 " she kept on screaming, " yon
might as well have sdd whether you would have
goose or gander?"

But they had no time to etop, they thought ; and,
as for the farmer, he began to read and pray w^th all his
house, small and great, for they thought it was the Deil,
and no mistake.

Now, the third day, when night came, the thieves
and Grizzel were so hnagry they did not know what to
do ; so they made up their minds to go to the laxder of
a rich fanner, who lived by the wood's side, and steal
some food. Well, off' they went, but the thieves did not
dare to venture themselves, so Grizzel was to go up the
atepB which led to the larder, and hand the food out, and
the others were to stand below and take it from her.
So when Grizzel got inside, she saw the larder was fall
of all sorts of things, &esh meat and salt, and sausages
and oat-cake. The thieves bogged her to be still, and

U.g.VK.yC00glc

246 VOBSE TALES.

jast throw oat Bomething to eat, and to remember how
badly they had fared for two nights. But Grrizzel stock
to her own, that she did.

" Will yon have fresh meat, or salt, or Bausages, or
oat-cake ? Just look, what lovely oat-cake," she bawled
out, enough to split your bead. " You may have what
yoa please, for here's plenty to choose &om."

But the fanner woke with all this noise, and ran
oat to see what it all meant. As for the tiiievee, oflF
they ran as fast as they could ; but while the farmer was
looking after them, down came Grizzel so black and agly<

"Stop a bit! 'stop a bit, boys!" she bellowed;
" you m^y have what you please, for there's plenty to
choose from."

And when the farmer saw tliat ugly monster, he
too, thought the Deil was loose, for he had heard what
had happened to his neighbours the evenings before ; so
he began both to read and pray, and every one in the
whole parish began to read and pray, for they knew that
you could read the Devi] away.

The next evening was Saturday evening, and &e
thieves wanted to steal a fat ram for their Sunday dinner ;
and well they might, for they had fasted many days,
but they wouldn't have Grizzel with them at any price.
She brought bad luck with her jaw, they swd ; so while
Grizzel was walking about waiting for them on Snnday

U.g.VK.yC00glc

aoosEY omzzBL. 247

morning, alie got so awfiJly hungry — for ahe had fasted
For three days — that she went into a tumip-Seld and
pulled up Bome turnips to eat. But when the farmer
who owned the turnips rose, he felt uneasy in his mind,
and thought he would just go ani take a look at his
turnips on the Sunday morning. So he pulled on his
trousers and went across the moss which lay under the
hill, where the turnip-field lay. But when he got to the
bottom of the field, he saw something bhick walking
aboot in the field and pulling op his turnips, and he soon
made np his mind that it was the DeiL So away he
ran home as fast as he could, and said the Deil was
among the turnips. This frightened the whole bouse
out of their wits, and they agreed they'd beet send for
the priest, and get him to bind the Deil.

"That won't do," said the goodwife, "this is Sun-
day morning, you'll nerer get the priest to come ; for
either he'll be in bed ; or if he's up, he'll be learning
his sermon by heart."

"Oh!" said the goodmau, " never fear; I'll pro-
mise him a tst loin of veal, and then he'll come iaat
enough."

So ofi* he went to the priest's house ; but when he
got there, sure enough, the priest was still in bed. The
mfud begged the farmer to walk into the parlour while
she ran up to the priest, and said, —

.yCOOgIC

248 MOBSB TALES.

" Farmer So-and-So was down-staira, and wished
to have a word with him."

Well 1 when the priest heaid that sach a worthy
msD was down stairs, he got up at once, and came down
jnst aB ha was, in his slippers and night-cap.

So the goodmao told his errand ; how the Deil waa
loose in his turnip-Seld ; and if the priest would only
come and bind him, he would send him aiatloin ofveaL
Yes i the priest was willing «iongh, and called out to
his groom to saddle his horse, while he dressed himself

" Nay, nay, father I " said Ute man ; " the Deil
won't wait for us long, and no one knows where we
shall find him again if we miss him now. Yoor rever-
ence must come at once, just as you are."

So the priest followed him just as he was, with the
clothes he stood in, and went ofiF in his nightcap and
slippers. But when they got to &e moss, it was so
moist the priest couldn't cross it in his slippers. So
the goodman took him on his back to cany him oTcr.
On they went, the goodman picking his way from one
dump to the other, till tkey got to the middle ; then
Grizzel caught sight of them, and thought it waa the
thieves brmging the ram.

"Is he fat?" she screamed; "is he&t?'* and
made such a noise that the wood rang again.

" The Deil knows if he's iat or lean ; I'm sure I

U.g.VK.yC00glc

aOOSBT ORIZZSL. 249

don't," said the goodman, when he heard that; " bnt,
if you want to know, you had better come yourself and
eee."

And then he got so afraid, he threw the priest head
over heeU into the soft, wet moBG, and took to hie legs ;
and if the priest hasn't got out, why, I dare say he's
lying there still.

.yCOOgIC

THE LAD WHO WENT TO THE
NORTH WIND.

/^NCE on a time there was an old widow who had ooe
son ; and ae she was poorly and weak, her son
had to go up into the safe to fetch meal for cooking ;
but when he got outside the safe, and was just going
down the steps, there came the North Wind, puffing and
blowing, caught up the meal, and away with it through
the air. Then the lad went back into the safe for more ;
but when he came out again on the steps, if the North
Wind didn't come again and carry off the meal w\ik a
paff; and, more than that, he did ho the third time.
At thia the lad got very angry ; and as he thought it
hard that the North Wind should behave so, he thought
he'd just look him up, and aak him to give up his
meat

So off he went, hut the way was long, and he
walked and walked ; but at last he came to the North
Wind's house.

"Good dayl" said the lad, "and thank yon for
coming to see us."

"Good DatI" answered the North Wind, for

.yCOOgIC

THE LAD WHO WENT TO THE HOBTH WIND. 261

his voice was loud and gmS, " and thanes for gouinq
TO MB as. What do tod want?"

" Oh !" answered the lad, " I only wished to ask
you to be BO good as to let me have back that meal you
took from me on the safe steps, for we haven't much to
live on ; and if you're to go on snapping up the morsel
we have, there'll be nothing for it but to starve."

" I haven't got your meal," swd the North Wind ;
" bat if yoQ are in such need, I 'II give yoa a cloth which
will get yon everything you want, if you only say,
' doth, spread yourself, and serve up all kind of good
dishes ! ' "

With this the lad was well content. But, as the
way was so long he couldn't get home in one day, so he
turned into an inn on the way ; and when they were
going to sit down to supper he laid the cloth on a table
which stood in the comer, and said, —

" Cloth, spread yourself, and serve up all kinds of
good dishes."

He had scarce said so before the cloth did as it was
bid ; and all who stood by thought it a 6ne thing, but
most of all the landlady. So, when all were fast asleep,
at dead of night, she took the lad's cloth, and put
another in its stead, just like the one he had got from
the Nordi Wind, but which couldn't so much as serve
up a bit of dry bread.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

252 NOBSE TALES.

So, wheD the lad woke, be took hia cloth and went
off with it, and that day he got home to his mother.

" Now," said he, " I've been to the North Wind's
house, and a good fellow he is, for he gave me thie
cloth, and when I only say to it, ' Cloth, spread your-
Bel^ and serve np all kind of good dishes,' I get aoy
sort of food I please."

" All very tone, I dare say," said his mother j " bnt
seeing is believing, and I shan't beli«ve it till I see it."

So the lad made haste, drew out a table, Ifud the
cloth on it, and said, —

" Cloth, spread yooiself, and serve up all kind of
good dishes."

But never a bit of dry bread did the doth serve op.
■ " Well ! " said the lad, " there's no help for it bnt to
go to the North Wind again ; " and away he went

So he came to where the North Wind lived late in
the afternoon.

" Good evening!" said the lad.

" Gk>od evening !" said the North Wind.

" I want my rights for that meal of oars which you
took," said the lad ; " for, as for that cloth I got, it
isn't worth a penny."

" I've got no meal," swd the North Wind ; " but
yonder you have a ram which coins nothing but golden
ducats as soon as you say to it, —

.yCOOgIC

THE LAD WHO WENT TO TAB NOETH WIND. 263

" Ham, ram ! make money I"

So the lad thought this a fine thing ; but as it was
too ^ to get home that day, he turned in fco- the
night to the same inn where he had slept before.

Before he called for anything, he tried the truth of
what the North Wind had said of the ram, and found it
all right ; bat, when the landlord saw that, he thought
it waa a iamouB ram, and, when the lad had fallen
asleep, he took another which couldn't coin gold ducate,
and changed the two.

Next morning off went the lad ; and when he got
home to his mother, he said, —

" After all, the North Wind is a jolly fellow ; for
now he has given me a ram which can coin golden
ducats if I only say, ' Ram, ram I make money.' "

" All very true, I daresay," said hia mother ; " but
I shan't believe any such stuff until I see the ducats
made."

" Ram, ram 1 make money I " said the lad ; bnt if it
made anything, it wasn't money.

So the lad went back again to the North Wind, and
blew him up, and said the ram was worth nothing, and
he most have his rights for the meal.

"Weill" sud the North Wind; "I've nothing
else to give up but that old stick in the comer yonder ;
bnt it's s stick of that kind that if yon say, —

U.g.VK.yC00glc

254 NOBSS TALES.

" ' Stick, stick 1 lay od 1' it lays on till you say, —

" ' Stick, stick 1 now stop !' "

So, as the way was long, tbe lad turned in this
night too to the landlord ; hut as he could pretty well
guess how things stood as to the cloth and tbe ram,
he lay down at once on tbe bench and began to snoie,
as if be were arieep.

Now tbe landlord, who easily saw that the stick
must be worth something, hunted up one which was tike
it, and when he heard the lad snore, was going to
change tbe two ; bnt, just as the luidlord was abont to
take it, tbe lad bawled out, —

" Stick, stick I lay on ! "

So the stick began to beat tbe landlord, till be
jumped over chairs, and tables, and benches, and yeQed
and roared, —

" Oh my I oh my I bid the stick be still, else it
wiU heat me to deatii, and yon shall have back both
your cloth and your ram."

When the lad thought the landlord had got enough
he said,

"Stick, stick 1 now stop I"

Then be took the cloth and put it into his pocket,
and went home with his stick in his hand, leading the
ram by a cord round its horns ; and so he got his ri^ts
for the meal he had lost.

.yCOOgIC

THE MASTER THIEF.

/~\NCE upoD a time there was a poor cottager who
had three sons. He had nothing to leave them
when he died, and no money with which to put them
to any trade, so that he did not know what to make of
them. At hist he said he would give them leave to
take to anything each liked best, and to go whither-
soever they pleased, and he would go with them a bit
of the way ; and so he did. He went wiUi them til]
they came to a place where three roads met, and there
each of them chose a road, and their father bade them
good-bye, and went back home. I have never heard
tell what became of the two elder; but as for the
youngest, he went both far and long, as you shall hear.
So it fell oat one night as he was going through a
great wood that such bad weather overtook him. It
blew, and sleeted, and drove bo that he could scarce
keep his eyes open; and in a trice, before he knew
bow it was, he got bewildered, and coold not find either
road or path. But as he went on and on, at last be
saw a glimmering of light far far off in the wood. So
he thought be would try and get to the light ; and

.yCOOgIC

256 NOBSE TALES.

after s time tie did reach it. There it was in a large
house, and the fire was blazing so brightly inside, that
he could tell the folk had not yet gone to bed ; eo he
went in and saw an old dame biiBtling aboat and mind-
ing the house.

" Glood evening !" said the youth.

" Good evening !" said the old dame.

" HutetuI it's such foul weather out of doors to-
night," said he.

" So it is," swd she.

" Can I get leave to have a bed and shelter here
to-night?" asked the youth.

"You'll get no good by sleeping here," said the
old dame ; " for if the folk come home and find you
here, they'll kill both me and you."

" What 8ort of folk, then, are they who live here ?"
asked the youth.

"Oh, robbers I And a bad lot of them too," said
the old dame. " They stole me away when I was
little, and have kept me as their honsekeeper ever
since."

"Well, for all that, I think I'll juat go to bed,"
said the youth. " Come what may, I'll not stir out at
night in such weather."

" Very well," said the old dame ; " but if you stay,
it will be the worse for yon."

.yCOOgIC

THB UASTSR TEIEF. 257

With that the youth got into a bed which stood
there, but he dared not go to oleep, and very soen after
in came the robbera ; so the old dame told them how a
stranger fellow had come in whom she had not been
able to get out of the honee again.

"Did yoa see if he had any money?" said the
robbers.

"Such a one as he money I" said the old dame,
" the tramper I Why, if he had clothes to hie back, it
was as much as he had."

Th«n the robbers began to talk among themselves
what they should do with him ; if they should kill him
outright, or what else they should do. Meantime the
youth got up and began to talk to them, and to ask if
they didn't want a servant, for it might be that he
would be glad to enter their service.

" Oh," said they, " if you have a mind to follow
the trade that we follow, you can very well get a place
here."

" It's all one to me what trade I follow," said the
youth ; " for when I left home, father gave me leave to
take to any trade I chose."

"Well, have yon a mind to steal?" asked the
robbers.

" I don't care," said the yonth, for he thought it
would not take long to learn that trade.
h2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

258 HOBSl TALES.

Now there lived a man & tittle way off who had
three oxen. One of these he waa to take to the town
to Bell, and the robbers had heard what he was going
to do, so tht^y said to the youth, if be were good to
steal the ox from the man by the way without his
knowing it, and without doing him any harm, they
wouhl give him leave to be their aerring-man.

Well t the youth set off, and took with him a
pretty shoe, with a silver buckle on it, which lay about
the house ; and he put the shoe in the road along
which the man was going with his ox ; and when he
had done that, be went into the wood and hid biniBelf
under a bush. So when the man came by he saw
the shoe at once.

" That's a nice shoe," sud he. " If I only had
the fellow to it, I'd take it home wi^ me, and perhaps
I'd put my old dame in a good humour for once."
For you must know be bad an old wife, so cross and
snappish, it was not long between each time that she
boxed his ears. But then he bethought him that be
could do nothing with the odd shoe unless be bad the
fellow to it ; so he went on his way and let the shoe
lie on the road.

Then the youth took up the shoe, and made aD
the baste he could to get before the man by a short
cut through the wood, and laid it down before him in

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THI HABTIB THIEF. 259

the road again. When the man came aloDg with his
ox, he got quite angry with himself for being bo dull aa
to leave the fellow to the shoe lying ia the road instead
of taking it with tiim ; so he tied the ox to the fence,
and said to himself, " I ma; just as well run back and
pick up the other, and then I 'II have a pair of good
shoea for my old dame, and so, perhaps, I'll get a kind
word &om her for once."

So be set off, and hunted and hunted up and down
for the shoe, but no shoe did he find ; and at length
he had b) go back with the one be had. But, mean-
while, the youth had taken the ox and gone off with
it; and when the man came and saw his ax gone,
he began to cry and bewail, for he waa afraid his
old dune would kill him outright when she came to
know that the ox was lost But just then it came
across his mind that he would go home and take the
second ox, and drive it to the town, and not let his old
dame know anything abont the matter. So he did
this, and went home and took the ox without his dame's
knowing it, and set off with it to the town. But the
robbers knew all about it, and they said to the youth,
if he could get this ox too, without the man's knowing
it, and without bis doing him any harm, be should be
as good as any one of them. If that were all, the
youth said, he did not think it a very hard thing.

.yCOOgIC

260 SOBSS TAUS.

This time he took with htm a rope, and hung him~
self up under the arm-pite to a tree right in the mao'sway.
So the man came along with his ox, and when he saw
snch a sight hanging there he began to feel a little
queer.

" Well," said he, " whatever heavy thoughts yon
had who have hanged yourself up there, it can't be
helped ; you may hang for what I care ! I can't
breathe life into you again;" and with that he went
on hie way with his oi, Down slipped the youth from
the tree, and ran by a footpath, and got before tlie man,
and hung himself up right in his way again.

" Bless me t " said the man, " were yon really so
heavy at heart that you bmged yourself up there— or
is it only a piece of wit«hcratl that I see before me ?
Aye, aye t you may hang fcv all I care, whether yon are
a ghost or whatever you are." So be passed on witli
his ox.

"Sovf the youth did just as he had done twice
before ; he jumped down from the tree, ran through
the wood by a footpath, and hung himself up right in
the man's way again. But when the man saw iJus
sight for the third time, he said to himself, —

" Well ! this is an ugly buwness I Is it likely now
that they should have been so heavy at heart as to
hang themselves, all these three ? No 1 1 cannot think

.yCOOgIC

THE MASTER TBIEF. 261

it is anything else than a piece of witchcraft that I Bee.
But now I'll soon know for certain; if the other two
are Btill hanging there, it muBt be lealiy bo ; but if they
are not, then it can be nothing bnt witchcraft that I see."

So he tied up hiB ox, and ran back to see if the
others were still really hanging there. But while he
went and peered up into all the trees, the youth
jumped down and took his ox and ran off with it.
When the man came back and found his ox gone, he
was in a sad plight, and, as any one might know without
being told, he began to cry and bemoan ; but at last he
came to take it easier, and so he thought, —

" There's no other help for it than to go home and
take the third ox without my dame's knowing it, and to
try and drive a good bargtun with it, bo that I may get
a good sum of money for it."

So he went home and set off with the ox, and his
old dame knew never a word about the matter. But
the robbers, they knew all about it, and they said to the
youth, that if be could steal this ox as he had stolen
the other two, then he should be master over the whole
band. Well, the youth set off, and ran into the wood ;
and as the man came by with his ox he Bet up a
dreadful, bellowing, juat like a great ox in the wood.
When the man heard that, you can't think bow glad he
was, for it seemed to him that be knew the voice of his

.yCOOgIC

362 S0R8B TALES.

big bnllock, and he thought that now he should 6nd
both of them agtun ; eo he tied up the third ox, and
ran off from the road to look for them in the wood ;
but meautime the youth went off with the third ox.
Now, whea the man came back and found he had lost
this ox too, he was so wild that there was do end to
his grief. He cried and roared and beat his breast, aud,
to tell the trath, it was many days before he dared go
home ; for he was afr^d lest his old dame shonld kill
him outright on the spot.

As for the robbers, they were not very well pleased
either, when they had to own that the youth was
master over the whole band. So one day they thought
they would try their huids at something which ho was
not man enough to do ; and they set off all together,
every man Jack of them, and left him alone at home.
Now, the first thing that he did when they were all
well clear of the house, was to drive the oxen out to
the road, so that they might run back to the num &om
whom he had stolen them ; uid right glad he was to
see them, as you may fancy. Next he took all the
horses which the robbers had, and loaded them witii
Uie best things he could lay his hands on — gold and
slver, and clothes and other fine things; andtbeD he
bade the old dame to greet the robbers wheu they came
back, and to tliauk them for him, and to say that now

.yCOOgIC

THE VA3TEH THIEF. 263

he was setting off on bia travels, and l^ey would have
hard work to find him again ; and with that, off he
staTt«d.

After a good bit he came to the road along which
he wa8 going when he fell among the robbers ; and
when he got near home, and could see his father's cot-
tage, he pat on an uniform which he had found among
the clothes he had taken from the robbers, and which
was made juat like a general's. So he drove up to the
door ae if he were any other great man. After that
he went in and asked if he could have a lodging ? No ;
that he couldn't at any price.

" How ever should I be able," said the man, " to
make room in my house for such a fine gentleman — I who
scarce have a rag to lie upon, and miserable rags too?"

" Yon always were a stingy old hunks," said the
youth, " and so you are still, when you won't take your
own son in."

" What, yon my son I " said the man.

"Don't you know me again?" sfud the youth.
Well, after a little while he did know him again.

" But what have yon been turning your hand to,
that you have made yourself so great a man in such
haste ? " asked the man.

" Oh I I 'U soon tell you," eaid the yonth. " You said
I might take to any trade I diose, and so I bound myself

U.g.VK.yC00glc

264 HORSE TALES.

appieDtice to a pack of thieves and robbers, and now
1 've served my time out, and am become a Master Thief,"

Now tiiere lived a Squire close by to his father's
cottage, and he had such a gre^t bouse, fmd such heaps
of money, he could not tell how much he had. Ho had
a daughter too, and a smart and pretty girl she wa&
So the Master Thief set his heart upon having her to
wife ; and he told his father to go to the Squire and ask
for his daughter for him.

" If he askfi by what trade I get my living, yen
can say I'm a Master Thief."

" I think you've lost yomr wits," said tlie man, " for
you can't be in your right mind when you think of such
stuff"

No I he had not lost his wits, his fialiier most and
shonld go to the Squire and ask for his daughter.

" Nay, but I tell yon, I daren't go to the Sqmre
and be yonr spokesman ; he who is 60 rich, and has so
much money," said Uie man.

Yes, there was no hdp for it, said the Master
Thief ; he should go whether he would or no ; and if
he did not go by fair means, he would soon make him
go by foul. But the man was still loath to go ; so he
stepped after him, and rubbed him down with a good
birch cudgel, and kept on till the man came crying and
sobbing inside the Squire's door.

.yCOOgIC

THE MASTER THISF. 265

"How now, my man! What ails yon ?" said tte
Squire.

So he told him the whole Btory ; how be had three
sons who Bet off one day, and how he bad given them
leave to go whithersoever they wonid, and to follow
whatever calling they chose. " And here now is the
youngest come home, and has thrashed me till he has
made me come to you and ask for your daughter for
him to wife ; and be bids me say, besides, that he's a
Uaater Tbieil" And bo he fell to crying and sobbing

" Never muid, my man," said the Squire laughing ;
"jast go back and tell him from me, he muBt prove
his akill first. If he can steal the roast from the
spit in the kitchen on Sunday, while all the household
are looking after it, he shall have my daughter. Just
go and tell him that."

So he went back and told the youth, who thought
it would be an easy job. So be set about and caught
three bares alive, and put them into a bag, and dreBsed
himself in some old rags, until he looked bo poor and
filthy that it made one's heart bleed to see ; and then
he stole into the passage at the back-door of the
Squire's house on the Sunday forenoon, with his bag,
just like any other beggar-boy. But the Squire him-
self and all his household were in the tdtehen watching

H

U.g.VK.yC00glc

266 NOBBB TALES.

the roaat. Just as they were doing thie, the yonth let
one hare go, and it eet off and ran round and lonnd
the yard in front of the honae.

" Oh, juBt look at that hare ] " said ihe folk in the
kitchen, and were all for running out to catch it.

Tea, the Squire saw it running too. " Oh, let it
nm," Bud be ; " there's no use in thinking to catch a
bare on the spring."

A little while alter, the youth let the second hare
go, and tbey saw it in the kitchen, and thought it was
the same they bad seen before, and sUll wanted to run
out and catch it ; but die Squire said again it was no
use. It was not long before the youth let the third
hare go, and it set off and ran round and round the
yard as the others before it. Now, tbey saw it from
the kitchen, and still thotigbt it was the same hare that
kept on running about, and were all eager to be out
afiter it.

" Well, it is a toe hare," SMd the Sqiure ; " come,
let's see if we can't lay oar hands on it"

So ODt he ran, and the rest with him — away tbey
aD went, the hare before, and they after ; so that it
was rare fim to see. Bat meantime the youth took
the roast and ran off with it ; and where the Squire
got a roast for his dinner that day I don't know ; bat
one thing I know, and that is, that be hod no roast

.yCOOgIC

THE MASTER THIEF. 267

hare, thoogh he ran after it till he was both warm and
weary. "" ■ -

Now it chanced that the Priest came to dinner that
day, and when' the Squire told him what a trick the
Master Thief had played him, he made such game of
him that there waa no end of it.

" For my part," s^d the Priest, " I can 't think
how it conid ever happen to me to be made such a fool
of by a fellow like that."

" Very well — only keep a sharp look-out," said the
Squire ; *' maybe he'll come to see you before you know
a word of it." But the Priest stuck to his text, — that
he did, and made game of the Squire because he had
been 80 taken in.

Later in the afternoon came the Master Thief, and
wanted to bare the Squire's daughter, as he had given
his word. But the Squire began to talk him over, and
said, " Oh, you must first prove your skill a little more ;
for what you did to-day was no great thing, after all.
Couldn't you now play off a good trick on the Priest,
who is sitting in there, and making game of me for
letting such a fellow as you twist me round his thumb."

"Well, as for that, it wouldn't be hard," stdd the
Master Thief. So he dressed himself up like a bird,
threw a great white sheet over his body, took the wings
of a goose and tied them to his back, and so climbed up

U.g.VK.yC00glc

268 KORBB TALEB.

into a great maple which stood in the Priest's ftarden.
And when the Priest came home in the evening, the
youth began to bawl out —

" Father Laurence I Father Laurence ! " — For that
was the Priest's name.

" Who is that calling me?" eaid the Priest.

" I am an angel," said the MasMr Thief, " sent
from God to let you know that you shall be taken up
alive into heaven for your piety's sake. Xezt Monday
night yon must hold yonraelf ready for the jonniey, for I
shall come then to feteh you in a sack ; and alt your gold
and your silver, and all that you have of this world's goods,
you must lay together in a heap in your dining-room."

" Well, Father Laurence fell on his knees before the
angel, and thanked him ; and the very next day he
preached a farewell sermon, and gave it out bow there
had come down an angel unto the big maple in his gar-
den, who had told him that he was to be taken ap alive
into heaven for his piety's sake ; and ha preached and
made such a touching discourse, that all who were at
church wept, both young and old.

So the next Monday night came the Master Thief
like an angel again, and the Priest fell on his knees and
thanked him before he was put into the sack ; but when
be bad got him well in, the Master Thief drew and
dragged him over stocks and stones.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HASTER THIET. 269

" OW I OW 1" groaned the Priest inside the sack,
" wherever are we going?"

"This is the narrow way which leadeth unto the
kingdom of heaven," said the Master Thief, who went
on dragging him along till he had nearly broken every
bone in faiB body. At last he tumbled him into a
goose-house that belonged to the Squire, and the geese
began pecking and pinching him with their bills, so that
he was more dead than ahve.

" Now you are in the flames of purgatory, to be
cleansed and punSed for life everlasting," said the
Master Thief ; and with that he went his way, and took
all the gold which the Priest had laid together in his
dining-room. The next morning, when the goose-girl
came to let the geese out, she heard how the Priest lay
in the sack, and bemoaned himself in the goose-house.

" In heaven's name, who's there, and what ails
yoa?" she cried.

" Oh [" Bud the Priest, " if you are an angel from
heaven, do let me out, and let me return again to
earth, for it is worse here than in bell. The little
fiends keep on pinching me with tongs."

" Heaven help us, I am no angel at all," said the
girl, as she helped the Priest out of the sack ; " I only
look after the Squire's geese, and like enongh they are
the little fiends which have pinched your reverence."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

270 NOBSB TALES.

" Oh 1 " groaned the Priest, " this is eH that Master
Thiers doing. Ah [ my gold and my silver, and my
fine clothes." And he best bis breast, and hobbled
liome at snch a rate that the girl thought he had lost
his wits nil at once.

Now when the Squire came to he^ how it had gone
witii the Priest, and how he bad been along the narrow
way, and mto pui^tory, he laughed till he wellnigfa
split his sides. But when the Master Thief came and
asked for his daughter as he had promised, the Squire
put him off again, and eaid —

" Ton must do one masterpiece better still, that I
may see plainly what you are fit for. Now, I have
twelve horses in my stable, and on them I will pat
twelve grooms, one on each. If yon are so good a
thief as to steal the horses from under them, I'll see
what I can do for you."

" Very well, I daresay I can do it," said the Master
Thief; " but shall I really have your daughter if I can?"

" Yes, if you can, I'll do my best for you," said the
Squire.

So the Master Thief set off to a shop, and bought
brandy enough to fill two pocket-flasks, and into one of
them he put a sleepy drink, but into the otiier only
brandy. After that he hired eleven men to lie in wait
at night, behind the Squire's stableyaid; and last of

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THB 1IA8TIB THIEF. 271

all, for fair words and a good bit of money, he borrowed
a ragged gown and cloak from an old woman ; and so,
with a Btaff in his hand, and a bundle at hia back, be
limped off, as evening drew on, towards the Squire's
stable. Ji^ as he got there they were watering the
horses for the night, and had their hande full of work.

"What the devil do you want?" said one of the
grooms to the old woman.

" Oh, oh ! hutetu t it is so bitter cold," stud she,
and shivered and shook, and made wry faces. " Hatetul
it is so cold, a poor wretch may easily freeze to death ; "
and with that she fell to shivering and shaking agtun.

" Oh ! for the love of heaven, can I get leave to*
stay here a while, and sit inside the stable door ?"

" To the devil with your leave," said one. " Pack
yourself off this minute, for if the Squire sets his eye
OD you, he'Q lead na a pretty dance."

" Oh t the poor old bag-of-bones," said another,
whose heart took pity on her, " the old hag may sit
inside and welcome ; such a one as she can do no harm."

And the rest stud, some she should stay, and some
she shouldn't; but while they were quarrelling and
minding the horses, she crept further aad further into
the stable, till at last she sat herself down behind the
door ; and when she had got so far, no one gave any
more heed to her.

.yCOOgIC

272 KORSB TALEB.

As the oi^t wore on, the men found it rather coM
work to ut BO BtiU aod quiet on horseback.

" Butetu 1 it IB so deviliflh cold," eaid one, and beat
his arms crosswise.

" That it is," said another ; " I freeze so, that my
teeth chatter."

" If one only had a quid to chew," said a third.

Well 1 there was one who had an ornice or two ;
BO they shared it between them, though it wasn't much,
after all, that each got ; and so they chewed and spat,
and spat and chewed. This helped them somewhat ;
bat in a little while they were just as bad as ever.

" Hutetu I" said one, and shivered and shook.

"Hntetn!" said the old woman, and shivered bo,
that every tooth in her head chattered. Then eke
pulled oat the flask with brandy in it, and her haod
shook so that the spirit splashed about in the flask, and
then she took such a gulp, that it went " bop" in her
•throat

" What's that you've got in your flask, old girl?"
said one of the grooms.

" Oh I it's only a drop of brandy, old man," sfud
she.

" Brandy 1 Well, I never ! Do let me have a
drop," scrsEuned the whole twelve, one after another.

" Oh I but it is such a little drop," mumbled the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HABTBR THIEF. 37S

old woman, " it will not even wet your mouths ronnd."
But they miiBt and would have it ; there was no help
for it ; aud so she pulled out the Qaak with the sleepy
drink in it, and put it to the first man's lips ; then she
shook no more, but guided the flask so tJi&t each of
them got what be wanted, and the twelfth bad not done
drinking before. tJie first sat and snored. Then Uie
Master- Thief threw off his beggar's rags, and took one
groom after the other so softly off their horses, and set
them astride on the beams between the stalls ; and so
he called his eleven men, and rode off with the Squire's
twelve horses.

But when the Squire got up in the morning, and
went to look after his grooms, they had just begun to
come to ; and some of them fell to spurring the beams
with their spurs, till the splinters flew again, and some
fell off, and some still hung on and sat there looking
like hoh.

"Ho! ho!" said the Squire; "I see very well '
who has been here ; but as for you, a pretty set of
blockheads you must be to sit here and let the Master
Thief steal the horses from between your legs."

So they all got a good leathering because they had
not kept a sharper look-out.

Further on in the day came the Master Thief again,
and told how he had managed the matter, and asked

U.g.VK.yC00glc

274 NOfiSK TALES.

for the Squiie'a dangliter, as he had promised ; but the
Squire gave him one hmidred dollars down, and said he
must do something better still.

" Do yoa think now," said he, " you can steal the
horse from under me while I am out riding on hie
back?"

" O, yes ! I daresay I could," said the Master
Thief, " if 1 were really sure of getting your daughter."

Well, well, the Squire would see what he could do ;
and be told the Master Thief a day when be would be
taking a ride on a great common where they drilled the
troops. So the Master Thief soon got hold of an old
worn-out jade of a mare, and set to work, and made
traces and collar of withies and broom-twigs, and bought
an old begguly cart and a great cask. After that be
told an old beggar woman, he woold give her ten dollars
if As would get inside the cask, and keep her moudi
agape over the taphole, into which be was going to
stick his finger. No barm should happen to her ; she
should only be driven about a little ; and if he took his
finger out more than once, she was to have ten dollars
more. Then he threw a few rags and tatters over
himself, and stuffed himself out, and put on a wig and
a great beard of goat's hair, so that no one could know
htm again, and set off for the common, where the Squire
had already been riding about a good bit. When he

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HABTEB TH1IC7. 275

reached the' place, he went along so softly and slowly
that he scarce made an inch of way. " Gee up I Gee
up!" and 80 he weat- on, little; then he stood stock
still, and HO on a little a^ain ; and altogether the pace
was BO poor it never once c&me into the Squire's head
that this could be the Master Thief.

At htst the Squire rode right up to him, and asked
if he had seen any one lurking about in the wood
thereabouts.

*' No," Baid the man, " I haven't seen a soul."

" Harkye, now," said the Squire, " if you haVe a
mind to ride into the wood, and hunt about and see if
you can fall upon any oue larking about there, you shall
have the loan of my horse, and a shilling into the
bargain, to drmk my health, for your pwns."

" I don't see how I can go," said the man, " for I
am going to a wedding with this cask of mead, which
I have been to town to fetch, and here the tap has
fallen ont by the way, and so I must go along, holding
my finger in the taphole.

" Ride ofii" said the Squire ; " I '11 look after your
horae and cask."

Well, on these terms the man was willing to go ;
but he begged the Squire to be quick in putting his
finger into the taphole when he took his own out, and
to mind and keep it there till he came back. At last

U.g.VK.yC00glc

276 NOESE TALEB.

tbe Squire grew weary of staDdiog there with his finger
in the tapbole, so he took it out.

" Now I shall have ten dollars more ! " screamed
tbe old woman inside the cask ; and then the Squire
saw at once how the laud lay, and took himself off
home ; but he bad not gone far before ^ey met him
with a fresh horse, for the Master Thief had ab^ady
been to bis bouse, and told them to send one.

Tbe day after, be came to the Squure and woald
have bis daughter, as be had given his word ; but tbe
Squire put him off again with fine words, and gave him
two hundred dollars, and said be must do one more
masterpiece. If he could do that, he should have ber.
Well, well, tbe Master Thief thought be could do it, if
he only knew what it was to be.

" Do you think, now," said tbe Squire, " yon can
steal the sheet off our bed, and the shift off my wife's
back. Do you think you could do that? "

" It shall be done," stud the Master Thief. " I
only wish I was as sure of getting your daughter."

So when nigbt began to fall, the Master Thief went
out and cut down a thief who hung on the gaUows, and
threw him across his shoulders, and carried him off.
Then he got a long ladder and set it up against tbe
Squire's bedroom window, and so climbed up, and kept
bobbing the dead man up and down, just for all

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE MA8TBB THIEF. 277

the world like one that was peeping in at the win-
dow.

" That's the Master Thief, old lass I " sfud the
Squire, and gave hie wife a nudge on the side. " Now
see if I don't shoot him, that's all."

So saying he took up a riSe which he had laid at
his bedside.

"No! no! pray don't shoot him after telling him
he might come and try," said his wife.

" Don't talk to me, for shoot him I will," SEud he ;
and BO he lay there and aimed and aimed ; but as soon
as the head came up before the window, and he Raw a
little of it, so soon was it down again, ^t last be
thought he had a good aim ; " bang " went the gun,
down fell the dead body to the ground with a heavy
thump, and down west the Master Thief too as fast as
he could.

" Well," said the Squire, " it is quite true that I
am the chief inagistrate in these parts ; but people are
fond of talkmg, and it would be a bore if they came
to see this dead man's body. I think the best thing
to be done is that I should go down and bury
him,"

" You must do as you think best, dear," said bis
wife. So the Squire got out of bed and went down
stairs, and he had scarce put his foot out of the door

U.g.VK.yC00glc

278 KOBSl TALSB.

before the Master Thief stole in, and went straight up-
stuis to his wife.

"Why, dear, back already!" said she, for she
tJiought it was her hosband.

" O yes, I onlyjnst put him into a hole, and threw
a little earth over him. It is enongb that he is out of
sight, for it is such a bad night ont of doors ; by-and-
hy 111 do it better. But just let me have the sheet to
wipe myself with — -he was so bloody — and I have made
myself in such a mess with him."

So he got the sheet.

After a while he said —

" Do yon know I am afraid you mnst let me have
yonr night-shift too, for the sheet won't do by itself;
that I can see."

So she gave Mm the shift also. But jnat then it
came across his mind that he had forgotten to lock the
house-door, so he must step down and look to that
before he came back to bed, and sway he went wi^
both shift and sheet.

A little while after came the trne Squire.

"Why! what a time you've tt^en to lock the
door, dear 1" stud his wife ; " and what have yon done
with the sheet and shift?"

" What do you say ?" sud the Squire.

" Why, I am asking what you iiave done with the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE HASTBB THIEF. 279

sheet and shift that yon had to vipe off the blood,"
siud she.

"Wliat, in the Deil'B namel" said the Squire,
" has he taken me in ttus time too ?"

Next day came the Master Thief and aaked for the
Squire's daughter, aa he had ^ven bis word ; and then
the Squire dared not do anything else than give her to
him, and a good lump of money into the bargun ; for,
to tell the truth, he was afrtud lest the Master Thief
should steal the eyes out of his head, and that the
people vonid begin to say spiteful things of biro if he
broke hia word. So the Master Thief lived well and
happily from that time forward. I do n't know
whether .he stole any more ; bat if he did, I am quite
sure it was only for the sake of a bit of fun.

.yCOOgIC

THE BEST WISH.

/^NCE on a time there were three brothers; I don't
quite know how it happened, btic each of them
had got Uie right to wish one thing, whaterer he chose.
So the two elder were not long a-tbinking ; the; wished
that every time they put their liandH in their pockets
they might pull oat a piece of money ; for, said they, —

" The man who has as mucJi money as he wishes
for is always sure to get on in the world."

Bat the youngest wished something better still-
He wished that every woman he saw might fall in love
with him as soon as she saw him ; and you sh(dl aooD
bear how fiir better this was than gold and goods.

So, when they had all wished their wishes, the two
elder wero for setthig out to see the world ; and Boots,
their youngest brother, asked if he mightn't go along
with them ; but they wouldn't hear of such a thing.

" Wherever we go," they said, " we shall he treided
as counts and kings ; but you, you starveling wretch,
who haven't a penny, and never will have one, who do
you think will care a bit about you?"

" Well, but in spite of that, I'd like to go with

.yCOOgIC

THE BB8T WISH. 281

;ou," B&id Boots ; " pertapa a dainty bit may fall to my
share too off the plates of such high and mighty lords."

At last, after begging a&d pntying, he got leave to
go with Uiem, if he would be their serr&at, else they
wouldn't hear of it.

So, when they had gone a day or bo, they came to
an inn, where the two who had the money alighted, uid
called for fieh and flesh, and fowl, and brandy and mead,
and everything that was good ; but Boots, poor fellow,
had to look after their luggage and all that belonged to
the two great people. Now, as be went to and &o oat-
side, and loitered about in the inn-yard, the innkeeper's
wife looked out of window and saw the servant of the
gentlemen up stiurs ; and, all at once, she thou^t
she had never set eyes on such a handsome chap.
So she stared and stared, and the longer she looked
the handsomer he seemed.

" Why what, by the Deil's skin and bones, is it
that you are standing there gaping at out of the win-
dow ?" Bwd her husband. " I think 'twould be better
if yon just looked how the sucking pig is getting on, in-
stead of han^g out of window in that way. Don't
you know what grand folk we have in the house to-
day?"

" Oh ! " s^d his old dame, " I don't care a farthing
about such a pack of rubbish ; if thej don't like it they
h2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

282 B0B8B TALIS.

may lump it, and be off; but just do come aod took at
this tad out io the yard, so handsome a fellow I never
saw in all my bom days ; and, if youll do as I wish,
we'll ask liim to step in and treat faim a little, for, poor
lad, he seems to have a hard fight of it."

" Have yon lost the little brains you bad. Goody ?*'
Hud the husband, whose eyes glistened with rage ; " into
the kitchen with you, and mind the fire ; foot don't
stand there glowering after strange men."

So the wife had nothing left for it but to go into
the kitchen, and look after the cooking ; as for the lad
outside, she couldn't get leave to ask him in, or to treat
him either ; but just as she was about spitdng the pig
in the kitchen, she made an ezcuae for running out into
the yard, and then and there sh^ gave Boots a pair of
sc'aeoTS, of such a kind that they cut of themselves oat
of the air the loveliest clothes any one ever aaw, silk
)ind satin, and all that was fine.

" This you shall have because you are so haiid-
sume," said the landlady.

So when the two elder brothers had crammed them-
selves with roast and boiled, they wished to be off agun,
and Boots had to stand behind their carriage, and be
their servant ; and so they travelled a good way, till
they came to another ion.

There the two brothers again alighted and went in-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THS BEST Wira. 283

doors, but Boots, who had no money, they wouldn't
have inside with them ; do, he mast wait outside and
watch the luggage.

" And mind," they said, " if any one asks whose
servant you are, say we are two foreign Princes."

But the same thing happened now as it hap-
pened before ; while Boots, stood banging about out
in the yard, the innkeeper's wife came to the window
and saw him, and she too fell in love with him,
just like the first innkeeper's wife ; and there she
stood and stared, for she thoaght she could never have
her fill of looking at him. Then her husband came
running through the room with something the two
Princes had ordered.

" Don't stand thei:e staling like a cow at a bam-door,
but take this into the kitchen, and look after your fish-
kettle, Goody," stud the man; "don't you see what
grand people we hare in the honse to-day?"

" I don't care a farthing for such a pack of rub-
bish," said the wife ; " if they don't like what they get
they may lump it, and eat what they brought with them.
But just do come here, and see what you shall see !
Such a handsome fellow as walks here, out in the
yard, I never saw in all my bora days. Shan't we ask
him in and treat him a little ; he looks aa if he needed
it, poor chap?" and then she went on, —

U.g.VK.yC00glc

284 NOBSE TALES.

" Such a love t such a love ] "

" You Dflver had mach wit, and the little yon had
is clean gone, I can see," said the man, who waa much
more angry than the first innkeeper, and chased his wife
back, neck and crop, into the kitchen.

" Into the kitchen with you, and don't stand
glowering after lads," he said.

So she had to go in and mind her fish-kettle, and
she dared not treat Boots, for she was a£rud of her old
man ; but as she stood there making up the fire, she
made an excuse for running out into the yard, and then
and there she gave Boots a tablecloth, which was ench
that it covered itself with the best dishes yon could
think of, as soon as it was spread out.

" This you shall have," she said, " because you're bo
handsome."

So when the two brothers had eaten and drank of
all that was in the house, and bad paid the bill in hard
cash, they set off again, and Boots stood up behind their
carriage. But when they had gone so far that they
grew hungry again, they turned into a third inn, and
called for the best and dearest they could think oC

" For," said liey, " we are two kings on our traveb,
and as for our money, it grows like grass."

WeU, when the innkeeper heard that, there was
such a roasting, and baking, and boiling ; why I you

.yCOOgIC

THE BERT WISH. 285

might smell the diuiier at the next neighbour's house,
though it wasn't so vsry near; and the innkeeper was
at his wit's end to find all he wished to put before the
two kings. Bnt Boots, he had to stand outside here
too, and look after the things in the carriage.

So it was the same story over again. The inn-
keeper's wife came to the window and peeped ont, and
there she saw the servant atAnding by the carriage.
Such a handsome chap she had never set eyes on before ;
so she looked and looked, and the more she stw^d the
handsomer he seemed to the innkeeper's wife. Then
out came the innkeeper, scampering through the room,
with some dabty which the travelling kings bad
ordered, and he wasn't veiy soft-tongued when he saw
his old dame standing and glowering out of the
window.

" Don't you know better than to stand gaping and
staring there, when we have such great folk in the
house," he swd ; " back into the kitoben with you this
minuto, to your custards,"

" Well 1 well I " she sfud, " as for them, I don't care
a pin. If they can't wut tilt the custards are baked, they
may go without it — that's alL But do, pray, come
here, and you'll see such a lovely lad standing out here
in the yard. Why I never saw such a pretty fellow in
my life. Shan't we ask him in now, and treat him a

U.g.VK.yC00glc

286 K0B8E TALES.

little, for he looks an if it would do him good. Oh I
what a darling ! What a darling 1 "

"A wanton gadaboat you've been all yonr days,
and 80 you are still," said her husband, who was in each
a rage he scarce knew which leg to stand on ; " but if
you don't be off to yonr custards this minnte, I'll soon
find out how to make you stir yonr stumps ; see if I
don't"

So the wife had off to her custards as fast as abe
could, for she knew that her husband would stand no
nonsense ; but as she stood diere over the Gre she stole
out into the yard, and gave Boots a tap.

" If you only turn this tap," she Baid ; " you'll get
the finest diink of whatever kind you choose, both
mead, and wine, and bnindy ; and this you shall have
because you are so handsome."

So when the two brothers had eaten and drunk aO
they could, they started from the inn, and Boots stood
up behind again as their Bervitnt, and thus they drove
far and wide, till they came to a king's palace. There
the two elder gave themselves out for two emperor's
sons, and as they had plenty of money, and were bo
fine that their clothes shone agfun ever so fiu off, they
were well treated. They had rooms in the palace, and
the king couldn't tell how to make enough of them.
But Boots, who went about in the same rags he stood

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE BEST WISH. 287

in when lie left home, and who had neTer a penny in
his pocket, he waa taken up by the king's guard, and
pat across to an island, nhither they used to row over
all the beggara and rogiies that came to the palace.
This the king had ordered, becaase he wouldn't have
the mirth at the palace spoilt by thoee dirty black-
guards ; and tliither, too, only just as much food as
would keep body and soul together was sent over every
day. Now Boots' brothers saw very well that the
guard was rowing him over to the island, but they were
glad to be rid of him, and didn't pay the least heed to
him.

But when Boots got over there, be just puUed out
liis scissors and began to snip and cut in the air ; so
the BciBsors cut out the finest clothes any one would
wish to see ; silk and satin both, and all the beggars
on the islimd were soon dressed far finer than the king
and all his guests in the palace. After that, Boots
pulled out his table-cloth, and spread it out, and so they
got food too, the poor beggars. Such a feast had never
been seen at the king's palace, as was served that day
at the Beggars' Isle.

"Thirsty, too, 111 be bound you all ore," said
Boots, and out with his tap, gave it a turn, and so the
beggars got all a drop to drink ; and such ale and mead
the king himself had never tasted in all his life.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

288 NORSK TALES.

So, next morning, when those who were to briog the
beware their food on the island, came rowing over with
the acrapiuga of the porridge-pots aad cbeeae-parings —
that was what the poor wretches had— the beggars
wouldn't so much aa taste them, and the king's men fell
to wondering what it could mean ; hut they wondered
much more when they got a good look at the beggars,
for they were so fine the guard thought they must be
Emperors or Popes at least, and that they must have
rowed to a wrong istand ; but when they looked better
about them, they saw they were come to the old place.

Then they soon found out it must be he whom they
had rowed out the day before who had brought the be^
gars on the ishuid all this state and hravory ; and as bood
as they got back to the palace, they were not slow to teU
how the man, whom they bad rowed over the day before,
had dressed out all the beggars so fine and grand that
precious thiugs fell from their clothes.

" And as for the porridge and cheese we took, they
wouldn'teven taste them, so proud have they got," tltey
said.

One of them, too, bad smelt out that the lad had a
pur of scissors which he cut out the clothes with.

"When he only snips with those scissors up in Hie
air he snips and cuts out nothing but silk and satin,"
said he.

.yCOOgIC

THE BB8T WISH. 289

So, when the Princesa heard that, she had neither
peace nor rest till she saw the lad and his scissors that
cut out silk and satin from the air ; anch a pair was
worth having, she thought, for with its help she would
soon get all the finery she wished for. Well, she beg-
ged tlie king so long and bard, be was forced to send a
messenger for the lad who owned the scissors ; and when
he came to the palace, the Princess asked him if it were
true that he had such and such a pair of scissors, and if
he would sell it to her. Yes, it was all true he had such
a pair, said Boots, but sell it he wouldn't; and with
that be took the scissors out of bis pocket, and snipped
and snipped with them in the air till strips of silk and
satin flew all about him.

" Nay, but you must sell me these scissors," said the
Princess. " You may ask what you please for them,
but have them I mast"

No t Such a pair of scissors he wouldn't sell at any
price, for he could never get such a pfur again ; and
while they stood and haggled for the scissors, iiie Prin-
cess had time to look better at Boots, and she too
tiiought widi the innkeepers' wives that she had never
seen mch a handsome fellow before. So she began to
bargtun for the scissors over again, and begged and
prayed Boots to let her have them ; he might ask many.

.yCOOgIC

290 KOBSS TALES.

many himdred dollars for them, 'twas all the same to
her, BO Bhe got them.

" No I Bell them I won't," said Boots ; " bat all the
dame, if 1 can get leave to sleep one night on the floor
of the Princess' bed-room, cloee by the door, I'll give
her the sciaeors. I'll do her no harm, bnt if she's
afraid, she may have two men to watch inside the
room."

Yest the Princess was glad enongh to give him leave,
for she was ready to grant him anything if she only got
the scisBon. So Boots lay on the floor inside the Prin-
cess' bed-ioom that night, and two men stood watch
there too ; but the Princess didn't get much rest after
all ; for when she ought to bave been asleep, she most
open her eyes to look at Boots, fuid so it went on the
whole night. If she shut her eyes for a minute, ebe
peeped out at him again the nest, such a handsome fel-
low he seemed to her to be.

Next morning Boots was rowed over to the Beg-
gars' isle again ; but when they came with the porridge
scrapings and cheese parings, from the palace, there was
DO one who would taste them that day either, and so
those who brought the food were more astonished than
ever. But one of those who brought the food con-
trived to smell out that the lad who had owned the
scissors owned also a table-cloth, which he only needed

.y Google

THE BIST WISH. 291

to Spread ont, and it was covered with all the good things
he could wish for. So when he got back to the palace,
he wasn't long before he said, —

" Socli hot jointB and such custards 1 never saw
the like of in the king's palace."

And when the Princess heard that, she told it to the
king, and begged and prayed so long, that he was forced
to send a messenger out to the island to fetch the lad
who owned the table-cloth ; and so Boots came back to
the palace. The Princess must and would have the
clo^ of him, and offered him gold and green woods for
it, but Boots wouldn't sell it at any price.

" But if I may have leave to lie on the bench by
the Princess' bed-side to night, she shall have the cloth ;
but if she's afhud, she is welcome to set four men to
watch indde the room."

Yes I the Princess agreed to this, so Boots lay down
on the bench by the bed-side, and the four men watched ;
but if the Princess hadn't much sleep the night before,
she had much less this, for she could scarce get a wink
of sleep ; there she lay wide awake looking at the lovely
lad the whole night through, and alter all, the night
seemed too short.

Next morning Boot* was rowed off again to the
Beggars' island, though sorely against the Princess'
will, so happy was she to be near him ; but it was past

U.g.VB.yC00glc

292 HOBHE TALSa

prapng for ; to the islaad he most go, and there was an
end of it. But when those who brought the food to
the beware came with the porridge savings and
cheese parings, there wasn't one of them who woutd
even look at what the king sent, and those who
bronght it didn't wonder either ; thongh they all thonght
it a:b«nge that none of them were thirsty. But jnet
then, one of the king's gnard emelled ont that the lad
who bad owned the scissors and the table-cloth had
a tap beddes, which, if one only turned it a little, gave
ont the rarest drink, both ale, and mead, and wine.
So when he came back to the palace, he couldn't keep
his mouth shut this time any more thui before ; be
went about telling high and low about the tap, and how
easy it was to draw all sorts of drink out of it.

" And OB for that mead and ale, I've never tasted
the like of them in the kings palace ; honey uid synip
are nothing to them for sweetness."

So when the Princess heard that, she was all for get-
ting the tap, and was nothing loath to strike a bargain
with the owner either. So she went ^ain to the king,
and begged him to send a messenger to the Be^ars'
Isle after the lad who had owned the scissors and cloth,
(6t now he had another thing worth having, she said ;
and when the king heard it was a tap, that was good
to give the best ale and wine any one could drink, when

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE BEST WISH. 293

one gave it a turn, he wasn't long in sending: thtt mes-
senger, I should thiok.

So when Boots came up to the palace, the Princess
asked whether it were true he had a tap which could do
auch and such things ? " Yes 1 he had such a tap in
his waistcoat pocket," said Boots; but when the Prin-
cess wished with all her might to buy it, Boots said, as
he bad said twice before, he wouldn't sell it, even if
the Princess bade half the kingdom for it.

" But all the same," said Boots ; " if I may have
leave to sleep on the Princess' bed to-night, outside
the quilt, she shall have my tap. I'll not do her any
barm; bnt, if she's afraid, she may set eight men to
watch in her room."

"Ob, no!" said the Princess, "there was no need
of that, she knew him now so well ;" and so Boota lay
ont^de the Princess' bed that night But if she hadn't
slept much the two nights before, she had less sleep
that night; for she couldn't shot her eyes the livelong
night, but Uy and looked at Boots, who lay alongside
her outside the quilt.

So, when she got up in the morning, and they
were going to row Boots back to the island, she begged
them to hold hard a little bit ; and in she ran to the
king, and begged him so prettily to let her have Boots

.yCOOgIC

294 KOBSK TALES.

for a IiQsbaQd, she was so fond of Hm, and, onlesB she
had him, she did cot care to live.

" WflU, well 1 " said the king, " you shall have him
if yon most ; for he who baa such things is jost as rich
as you are."

So Boots g;ot the PrinccBS and half the kingdom —
the other half he was to have when the king died ; and
so eTeiTthing west smooth and well ; but aa for his
brothers, who had always been so bad to him, he packed
tliem off to the Beggare' islaQd.

" There," said Boots, " perhaps they may find out
which is best off, the man who has his pockets fiill of
money, or the man whom all women fall in love with."

Nor, to tell you the truth, do I think it would help
them much to wander about upon the Beggars' island
palling pieces of money out of their pockets ; Mid so, if
Boots hasn't taken tiiem off the island, there they are
still walking about to this very day, eating cheese-par-
ings and the scrapings of the porridge-pots.

.yCOOgIC

THE THREE BILLY-GOATS GRUFF.

/^NCE on a time tltere were ibree Billy-goate, wbo

were to go up to the hilUside to make them-

BelTes fat, and the name of all the three was " Gruff."

On the way ap was a bridge over a bum they had
to cross ; and under the bridge lived a great ugly Troll,
with eyes ae big as saacers, and a nose as long as a
poker.

So GrBt of all came the youngest billy-goat Gruff to
cross the bridge.

" Trip, trap ; trip, trap I" went the bridge.

" Who's THAT tripping over my bridge?" roared
the TroD.

" Oh ! it is only I, t^e tiniest billy-goat Gruff; and
I'm going up to the hill-eide to make myself fat," said
the billy-goat, with such a small voice,

" Now, I'm coming to gobble you up," said the
Troll.

" Oh, no I pray do n't take me. I'm too little, that
I am," said the billy-goat ; " wfut a bit till the second
billy-goat Gruff comes, he's much bigger."

" Well ! be off with you," said the Troll.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

296 NOBBE TAI.E3.

A little while after came the second billy-goat
Gruff to cross the bridge.

"Tbip.tbap! teip.tbapI trip, trap!" went the
bridge.

"WHO'S THAT tripping over my bridge?"
roared the Troll. •

"Oh! it's the second billy-goat Gru£^ and I'm
going lip to the hill-eide to make myself &t," said ^e
billy-goat, who hadn't such a small voice.

" Now, I'm coming to gobble yon up," swl the
TroH.

" Oh, no 1 don't take me, wut a little tJD the big
billy-goat Gruff comes, he's mnch bigger."

" Very well I be off with yon," said the TtoU.

Bat just then op came the big billy-goat Gmft

" TRIP, TRAP 1 TRIP, TRAP ! TRIP, TRAP !"
went the bridge, for the billy-goat was so heavy ihat
the bridge creaked and groaned under him.

" WHO 'S THAT tramping over my bridge ?"
roared the Troll.

"It's If THE BIO BiLLY-cwAT Gbuff," said the
billy-goat, who had an ugly hoarse voice of his own.

"Now, I'm coming to gobble you up," roared the
Troll.

"Well, oome along! I 'to got two apesn,
And I 'U poke joar ejsballi oat at joar ears ;

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THREE BILLY-OOATB QKDFP.

I 'ye gat beridsB tiro cnrliug-itonei,
And 1 '11 crash joo to bit*, body tad. bi

That was what the big billy-goat said ; and bo he
flew at the Troll and poked hiB eyes out with his hornB,
and crushed him to bite, body and bones, and tossed him
oQt into the bum, and after that he went up to the
hill-aide. There the billy-goate got ao fat they were
scarce able to walk home again ; and if the &t hasn't
fallen off them, why they're still fat; and ao, —

" Snip, map, laoiit,
Thii Ule'i told oat.''

.yCOOgIC

WELL DONE AND ILL PAID.

/~\NCE on a time there was b man, -who had to drive
his sledge to the wood for fuel So a bear met

"Out with your horse," stud the Bear, "or I'll
strike all your sheep dead by summer."

" Oh ! heaven help me then," said the man ;
" there's not a stick of firewood in the house ; yon most
let me drive home a load of fuel, else we shall be frozen
to death. I'll bring the horse to you to-morrow motn-
ing."

Yes 1 on these tenns he might drive the wood home,
that was a bargain ; but Bruin said, " if he didn't come
back, he should lose all his sheep by summer."

So the man got the wood on the eledge and rattled
homewards, but he wasn't over pleased at die bargain
you may fancy. So just then a fox met him.

"Why, what's the matter?" said the Fox; "why
are you so down in tlie mouth?"

" Oh, if you want to know," said the man ; " I met
a bear up yonder in the wood, and I had to give my
word to him to bring Dobbin back to-morrow, at this

U.g.VK.yC00glc

WILL DONE AND ILL PAID. 299

very hour ; for if he didn't get him, he aaid he would
tear aU my Blieep to death by sammer."

" Stuff, nothing worae than that," sud the Fox ;
"if you'll give me yoTU-fetteBt wether, I'll soon set yon
free; see if I don't."

Yes I the man gave his word, and swore he would
keep it too.

" WeD, when you come with Dobbin to-morrow for
the bear," sud the Fox, " I'll make a clatter up in that
heap of stones yonder, and so when the bear aske what
that noise is, you must say 'tis Peter the Marksmui,
who is the best shot in the world ; and after that you
must help yourself."

Next day off set the man, and when he met the
Bear, something began to make a clatter up in the hee^
of stones.

" Hist I what's that?" said the Bear,

" Ob ! that's Peter the Marksman, to be sure,"
said the man; "bo's the best shot in the world. I
know him by his voice."

" Have you seen any beats about here, Eric ?"
shouted out a voice in the wood.

" Say, DO I " said the bear.

"No, I haven't seen any," said Eric.

" What's that then, that stands alongside your
sledge ?" bawled out the voice in the wood.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

300 HORSE TALES.

" Say it's an old fii-Btump," said the Bear.

" Oh, it's only an old fit-stump," BaJd the

Such fir-etumpB we take in our country and roll
them on our sledges," bawled out ibs voice ; " if yon
can't do it youreelf, I'll come and help you."

" Say you can help yourself, and roll me up on Uie
sledge," sfud the Bear.

" No, thank ye, I can help myself well enongh,"
said the man, and lolled the Bear on to the sledge.

" Such fir-stumps we always bind fast on oar
sledges m our part of the world," bawled out the voice ;
"shall I come and help you?"

" Say you can help yourself, and bind me fost, do,"
said the Bear.

" No thanks, I can help myself well enough," sud
the man, who set to binding Bruin fast with all the
ropes he had, so that at last the bear couldn't stir a
paw.

" Such fir-stumps we always drive our axes into,
in our part of the world," bawled out the voice ; " for
then we guide them better going down the steep
pitches."

" Pretend to drive your aze into me, do now," said
the bear.

Then the man took up his aze, and at one blow

.yCOOgIC

WELL DONE AND ILL PAID. 301

Split the bear'a skull, bo that Bruin lay dead in a trice,
and BO the man and the Fox were great friendB, and on
the best terms. But when they came near the farm,
the Fox said, —

" I've no mind to go right home with you, for I
can't say I like your tykes ; so I'll just wait here, and
you can bring the wether to me, bnt mind and pick
out one nice and fat.

Yes ! the man would be sure to do that, and thanked
the Fox much for his help. So when he had put up
Dobbin, he went acroBB to the sheep-etall.

" Whither away, now ?" asked hiB old dame.
"Oh!" said the man, "I'm only going to the
sheep-stall to fetch a fat wether for that cunning Fox,
who set our Dobbin free. I gave him my word I
would."

" Wether, indeed," sud the old dame ; " never a
one shall that thief of a Fox get. Haven't we got
Dobbin safe, and the bear into the bargain ; and as for
the Fox, I'll be bound he's stolen more of our geese
than the wether is worth ; and even if he hasn't stolen
them, he will. No, no ; take a brace of your swiftest
honuite in a sack, and Blip them loose after him ; and
then, perhaps, we shall be rid of this robbing Heynard."
Well, the man thought that good advice ; so he
took two fleet red hounds, put them into a sack, and
set off with them.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

302 trOBSB TALEB.

" Have you brought the wether ?" said the Fox.

" Yee, come aod tt^e it," B&id the man, as he tm-
tied the sack and let etlip the houDds.

" HUF," 8»d the Fox, and gave a great spring;
" true it is what the old saw says, ' Well done is often
ill paid ;' and now, too, I see the truth of another Bay-
ing, ' The wont foes are those of one's own house.' "
That was what the Fox said as he ran off, aod saw the
red foxy hounds at his heels.

.yCOOgIC

EAST O' THE SUN AND WEST 0' THE
MOON.

/"iNCE OB a time there waa a poor husbandman who
had BO many nhildrea that be hadn't much of eith«r
food or clothing to give them. Pretty children they all
were, hut the prettiest was the youngest daughter, who
was so lovely there was no end to her loveliness.

So one day, 'twas on a Thursday evening late at
the fall of the year, the weather was so wild and rough
outside, and it was ao cruelly dark, and rain fell and wind
blew, till the walls of the cottage shook again. There
they all sat roimd the fire boBj with this thing and
that. But just then, all at once something gave three
taps on the window-pane. Then the father went oat
to see what was the matter ; and, when he got out of
doors, what should he see but a great big White Bear.

" Good evening to you I " said the White Bear.

*' The same to you," said the man.

" Will you give me youi youngest daughter ? If
yon will, I'll make you as rich as yon are now poor,"
said the Bear.

Well, the man would not be at ^ sorry to be so

U.g.VK.y Google

304 N0B6E TALIS.

rich ; but still he thought he must have a bit of a talk
with his dangbter first ; bo he went in and told tiiem
how there was a great White Bear waiting outside, who
had given his word to make them so rich if he conld
only have the youngest daughter.

The lassie said " No !" outright. Nothing conld
get her to aay anything else ; so the man went out and
settled it with the White Bear, that he should come
again the next Thursday evening and get an answer.
Meantime he talked his daughter over, and kept on
telling her of all the riches they would get, and how
well off she would be herself ; and so at last she thon^t
better of it, and washed and mended her rags, made
herself as smart as she could, and was ready to start.
I can't say her packing gave her much trouble.

Next Thorsday evening came the White Bear to
fetch her, and she got upon his back with her bundle,
and off they went So, when they had gone a bit of
the way, the White Bear said, — ■

" Are you afraid?"

" No t she wasn't."

" Well 1 mind and hold tight by my shaggy coat,
and Uien there's nothing to fear," said the Bear.

So she rode a long, long way, till they came to a
great steep hill. There, on the face of it, the White
Bear gave a knock, and a door opened, and they came

U.g.VK.yC00glc

EAST 0 THE HON AND WIBT 0 THE HOOH. 306

into a castle, where there were many rooms all lit np ;
roomfl gleaming with silver and gold ; and there too was
a table ready laid, and it was all as grand as grand conld
be. Then the White Bear gave her a silver bell ; and
wheo she wanted anything, she was only to ring it, and
she would get it at once.

Well, after she had eaten and drunk, and evening
wore on, she got sleepy after her journey, and thought
she would tike to go to bed, so she rang Ae bell ; and
she had scarce taken hold of it before she came into a
chamber, where there was a bed made, as &ir and white
as any one would wish to sleep in, with silken pillows
aod curtains, and gold liiuge. All that was in the
room was gold or silver ; but when she had gone to
bed, and put oat the light, a man came and laid him-
self alongside her. That was the White Bear, who
threw off his beast shape at night ; but she never saw
him, for he always came after she had put out the light,
and before the day dawned be was up and off again.
So things went on happily for a while, but at last she
began to get silent and sorrowful ; for there she went
about all day alone, and she longed to go home to see
her father and mother, and brothers and sisters. So
one day, when the White Bear asked what it was that
she lacked, she said it was bo dull and lonely there, and
how she longed to go home to see her father and
0 2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

306 ROBSl! TALXB.

mother, and brotheis and sisten, and that was why she
was so sad and sorrowful, because she couldn't get to
them.

"Well, well!" said the Bear, " perhaps there's a
cure for all this ; but yon most proniiBe me one thing,
not to talk alone with your mother, but only when the
rest are by to hear; for she'll take you by the hand
and try to lead yon into a room alone to talk ; but yoa
mnst mind and not do that, else you'll bring bad ludc
on both of us."

So one Sunday the White Bear came and said now
they could set off to see her father and mother. Well,
off they started, she sitting on his back ; and they went
far and long. At last they came to a grand boose, and
tfiere her brothers and sisters were running about ont
of doors at play, and everything was so pretty, 'twas a
joy to see.

" This is where your father and mother live now,"
said the White Bear; "but don't forget what I told
yon, else you'll make us both unlucky."

" No [ bless her, she'd not forget ;" and when sho
bad reached the bouse, the White Bear turned right
abont and leil her.

Then when she went in to see her father and
mo&er, there was such joy, there was no end to it None
of them thought they could thank her enough for all she

.yCOOgIC

SA8T O' THX Sim AND WEST O' THB HOOH. 907

had done for them. Kow, they had eTerything they
wished, as good aa good could be, and they all wanted
to know how she got oo where &he lived.

Well, she sEud, it was very good to Kve where
Ae did ; she had all she wished. What she eaid beude
I don't know ; bat I don't think any of tiiem had the
right end of the stick, or that they got much out of her.
But so in the afternoon, after they had done dinner, all
happened aa the White Bear had said. Her mother
wanted to talk with her alone in her bed-room ; but
she minded what the White Bear had said, and wouldn't
go up stairs."

" Oh ! what we have to talk about, will keep," Bh«
said, and pat her mother ofT. But some how or other,
her mother got round her at last, and she had to tell
her the whole story. So she eaid, how every night, when
she had gone to bed, a man came and lay down beside
her as soon aa she had put out the light, and how she
never saw him, because he was always up and away
before the morning dawned ; and how she went about
woeful and sorrowing, for she thought she should so
like to see him, and how all day long she walked aboat
there alone, and how dull, and dreary, and lonesome
it was.

" My I " said her mother ; " it may well be a Troll
you slept with I But now I '11 teach yon a lesson how to

.yCOOgIC

308 H0H8I TALK.

Kt eyes on him. 1 11 ^ve you a bit of candle, which
yon CM) carry home tu your bosom; just light that while he
is asleep, but take care not to drop the tallow on him."

Tea I she took the candle, and hid it in her bosom,
and as night drew on, tlie White Bear came and fetched
"her away.

But when they had gone a bit of the way, the
White Bear asked if all hadn't happened as he bad said ?

" Well, she couldn't say it hadn't."

"Now, mind," said he, " if you have listened to your
mother's advice, yon have brought bad luck on as both,
and then, all that has passed between us will be as
nothing."

" No," she s^d, " she hadn't listened to her mo-
ther's advice,"

So when she reached home, aad had gone to bed,
it was the old story over again. There came a man
and lay down beside her ; but at dead of night, when
she heard ho slept, she got up and struck a light, lit the
candle, and let the light shine on him, and so she saw
that he was the loveliest Prince one ever set eyes on,
and she fell so deep in love witii him on the spot, that
she thought she couldn't live if she didn't give him a
kiss there and then. And so she did, hut as she kissed
him, she dropped three hot drops of tallow on his shirt,
and he woke up. ^

.yCOOgIC

■AST 0 THE 8UH AND WEST 0 THE H00». 309

"What bave you done?" he cried; "now you
have made ub both unlucky, for had you held out only
this one year, I had been freed. For I have a Btep-
mother who has bewitched me, so that I am a White
Bear by day, and a Man by night. But now all ties
are Boapt between us ; now I must aet off from you to
her. She lives in a Castle which stands Eabt o' the
Sum and West o' thk Moon, and ^ere, too, is a Prin-
cess, with a nose three ells long, and she's the wife I
most have now."

She wept and took it ill, bnt there was no help for
it ; go be must.

" Then she asked if she mightn't go with him ?"

ffo, she mightn't.

" Tell me the way then," she said, " and I'll
search yon out ; that surely I may get leave to do."

" Yes, she might do that," he said ; " but there was
no way to that place. It lay East o' the Sun and
West o' the Moon, and thither she'd never find her
way."

So next morning, when she woke up, both Prince
and castle were gone, and then she lay on a little green
patch, in the midst of the gloomy thick wood, and by
her side lay the same bundle of rags she had brought
with her from her old home.

So when she had rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

.yCOOgIC

310 KOBBB TALES.

«od wept tin she was tired, she set ont on her vay,
and valked many, maoy days, till she came to' & lofty
rock. Under it sat an old hag, and played mUi a gold
apple which she tossed about. Her the lasde asked if
she knew the way to the Prince, who lived with his
step-mother in the Castle, that lay East o' the Svs
AND West o' the Moon, and who was to marry the
Princees, with a nose three ells long.

" How did you come to know about him ?" asked
the old hag ; " but maybe yon are the lassie who ought
to have had Mm?"

Yes, she was.

" So, so ; it 's you, is it ?" said the old hag. " Well,
all I know about him is, that he lives in the castle that lies
East o' the Sdn and West o' the Moos, and thither
you'll come, late or never ; but stiU you may have Uie
loan of my horse, and on him you can ride to my next
neighbour. Maybe she '11 be able to tell yon ; and
when you get there, juet give the horse a switch under
the left ear, and beg him to be off home ; and, stay,
this gold apple you may take with you."

So she got upon the horse, and rode a long long
time, till she came to another rock, under which sat an-
other old hag, with a gold carding-comb. Her the lasde
asked if she knew the way to the castle that lay Eatt
o' THE Son and West o' thk Moon, and she answered.

.yCOOgIC

EAST O' THK SUN AND WEST o' THE HOOH. 311

like the first old hag, that she knew nothing about it,
except it was east o' the mm and west o' the moon.

"And thither you'll come, late or never, but yon
shall have the loan of my horse to my next neighbour ;
maybe she 'U tell you all abont it ; and when you get
there, just switch the horse under the left ear and beg
him to be off home."

And diis old hag gave her the golden carding-
comb; it might be she'd find the use for it, she swd.
So the lassie got up on the horse, and rode a far for
way, and a weary time ; and so at last she came to an-
other great rock, under which sat another old bag, spin-
ning with a golden spinning-wheel. Her, too, she ask-
ed if she knew tbe way to the Prince, and where the
castle was that lay East o' the Son and West o' the
TAooTH. So it was the same thing over agfun.

" Mayhe it's you who ought to have had the
Prince ?" said the old hag.

Yes, it was.

Bat she, too, didn't know the way a bit better than
the other two. " East o' the sun and west o' the moon
it was," she knew — that was all.

" And thither you'll come, late or never; but 111
lend yon my horse, and then I think you'd best ride to
the East Wind and ask him ; mayhe be knows those parts,
and can blow yon thither. But when you get to him,

.yCOOgIC

312 HORSK TALKS.

you iieed only give the horse & switch under the left ear,
and he'll trot home of himself."

And BO, too, she gave her the gold spiimiiig-wbeet.
" M&ybe you'll find a use for it," said the old hag.

Then on she rode many many days, a weary time,
before she got to the Elaat Wind's house, bnt at last she
did reach it, aDd then she asked the East Wind if he
could tell her the way to the Prince who dwelt east o'
the sun and west o' the moon. Yes, the East Wind had
often heard tell of it, the Prince, uid the castle, but he
couldn't tell the way, for he had never blown so fiu*.

" But, if you will, I '11 go with you to my brother
the West Wmd, maybe he knows, for he's mudi
stronger. So, if you will just get on my back, III
carry you thither."

Yes, she got on bis back, aad I should just think
they went briskly along.

So when they got there, they went into the West
Wind's bouse, and the East Wind said the lassie be
had brought was the one who ought to have had dw
Prioce who lived in the casUe East o' the Sun and
West o' tbk Moon ; and so she had set out to seek him,
and how he had come with her, and would be glad to
know if the West Wind knew how to get to the casUe.

" Nay," said the West Wind, " so fer I've never
blown ; but if you will, I'll go with you to our brother

.yCOOgIC

EAST O' THE BCK AND WEST o' THE MOOK. 313

the South Wind, for he's much strouger than either of
UB, and he has flapped hia wings hi and wide. Maybe
he'll tell you. You can get on my back, aad I'll carry
you to him."

Yes ! she got on his back, and bo they travelled to
the South Wind, and weren't so very long on the way,
I should think.

When they got there, the West Wind asked him if
he could tell her the way to the castle that lay Kast o'
THE Son and West o' the Moon, for it was she who
ought to have had the prince who lived there.

" You don't Bay ao. That's nhe, is it?" said the
South Wind.

" Well, I have blustered about in moat places in
my time, bat bo far have I never blown ; but if you
will, I'll take you to my brother the North Wind ; he
IB the oldeat and BtrongeBt of the whole lot of us, and
if he do n't know where it is, you'll never find any one
in the world to tell you. You can get on my back,
and I'll carry you thither."

Yes 1 she'got on his back, and away he went from
his houBe at a fine rate. And this time, too, she
wasn't long on her way.

So when they got to the North Wind's house, he
was BO wild and cross, cold pu& came from him a long
way oflF.

p

U.g.VK.yC00glc

314 NOBSB TALES.

" Blast you both, what do tod want ?" he
bawled out to tiiem ever bo far c^, so that it atrack
them with an icy shiver.

"Well," said the South Wind, "you needn't be
so put out, for here I am, your brother, the South Wind,
and here is the lassie who ought to have had the Prince
who dwells in the castle that lies East o' the Sdm akd
Wb8T o' the Moon, and now she wants to ask yon if yon
ever were there, and can tell her the way, for she woold
be so glad to find him again,"

" Yes, I ENOW well enough where it is," said
the North Wind ; " once in my hfe I blew an aspen-
leaf thither, but I was so tired I couldn't blow a puff
for erer so many days after it. But if you really wish
to go thither, and aren't afraid to come along with me,
I'll take you oa my back and see if I can blow yon
thither."

Yes I with all her heart ; she most and woald get
thither if it were possible in any way ; and as for fear,
however madly he went, she wouldn't be at all a&aid.

" Very well then," said the Nortb Wind, " but yon
must sleep here to-night, for we must have the whole
day before us if we're to get thiUier at aU."

Early next morning the North Wind woke her,
and puffed himself ap, and blew himself out, and made
himself so stout and big, 'twas gruesome to look at him ;

U.g.VK.yC00glc

EAST O' THE SDH AND WEBT o' THI HOOK. 315

and BO off the; went, high up through the air, as if they
would Dever stop till they got to the world's end.

Down here below there was such a storm ; it threw
down long trat^ of wood and man; houses, and when it
swept over the great sea ships foundered by huudrede.

So they tore on and on, — ^no one can believe bow
far they went, — and all the while they still went over
the sea, and the North Wind got more and more weary,
and so out of breath he could scarce bring out a puff,
and his wings drooped and drooped, till at last he sunk
so low that the crests of the waves dashed over his heels.

" Are you afraid?" sfdd the North Wmd.

" No I" she wasn't.

But they weren't very far &om land ; and the
North Wind had still so much strength left in bim that
be managed to throw her up on the shore under the
windows of the castle which lay East o' the Sun and
Webt o' the Moon ; but then he was so weak and worn
out, he bad to stay there and rest many days before he
could get home again.

Next morning the lassie sat down under the castle
window, and began to play with the gold apple ; and
the first person she saw was the Long-nose who was to
have the Prince.

" What do you want for yonr gold apple, you lassie?''
said the Long-nose, and threw up the window.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

316 K0E8E TALKS.

" It's not for sale, for gold or money," said dte
lasBie.

" If it's not for eaie for gold or money, what is it
that yon will sell it for ? You may name your own
price," said the Princess.

" Well ! if I may get to the Prince, who lives here,
and be with him to night, yon shall have it," said the
lassie whom the North Wind had hronght.

Yes I she might ; that could be done. So the
Princess got the ^Id apple ; but when the laaeie came
up to the Prince's bed-room at night he was fast asleep ;
ahe called him and shook him, and between whiles she
wept sore ; bat all she could do she couldn't wake him
up. Next rooming, as soon as day broke, came the
Princess with the long nose, and drove her out again.

So in the daytime she aat down under the castle win-
dows and began to card with her golden carding-comb,
and the same thing happened. The Princess asked what
she wanted for it ; and she said it wasn't for sale for gold
or money, bnt if she might get leave to go up to the Prince
and be witt. him that night, the Princess should have^it.
But when she went up, she found him &st asleep a^in,
and all she called, and all she shook, and wept, and
prayed, she couldn't get life into him ; and as soon as
the first gray peep of day came, then came the Princess
with the long nose, atid chased her out again.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

EAST O' THB BUN AND WK8T o' THK MOON. 317

So, in the day time, the lassie sat down outside
under the castle window, and began to spin with her
golden spinning-wheel, and thttt, too, the Princess with
the long nose wanted to have. So she threw up the
window and asked what she wanted for it. The lassie
8»d, as she had said twice before, it wasn't for sale
for gold or money ; bat if she might go up to the Prince
who was there, and be with him alone that night, she
might have it.

Yes 1 she might do that and welcome. But now
you must know there were some christian folk who had
been carried off thither, and as t^ey sat in their room,
which was next the Prince, they had heard how a
woman had been in there, and wept and prayed, and
called to him two nights running, and they told that to
the Prince,

That evening, when the Princess came with her
sleepy drink, the Prince made as if he drank, but threw
it over his shoulder, for he could guess it was a sleepy
drink. So, when the lassie came in, she found the
Prince wide awake ; and then she told him the whole
story how she had come thither.

" Ah," sdd the Prince, " you've just come in the
very nick of time, for to-morrow is to be our wedding-
day ; but now I won't have the Long-nose, and you
are the only woman in the world who can set me free.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

318 KOBBE TALES.

1 'U sa; I want to see what my wife is fit for, and beg
her to wash the shirt which has the three Bpots of
tallow ou it ; she'll say yes, for she doesn't know 'tis
yoa who pnt diem there ; but that 's a work oolj for
chriBtiao folk, and Dot fw snch a pack of Trolls, and
BO I'll say that I won't have any other for my bride
than the woman who can wash them out, and ask you
to do it."

So there was great joy and love between them all
that night. Bat next day, when the wedding was to
be, the Prince said, —

" First of all, I'd like to see what my bride is fit
for."

" Yes !" said the step-mother, with all her heart.

"Well," said the Prince, "I'tb got a fine shirt
which I'd like for my wedding shirt, but some how or
other it has got three spots of tallow on it, which I
must have washed out ; and I have sworn never to
take any other bride than the woman who's able to do
that. If she can't, she's not worth having."

Well, that wai no great thing they said, so they
agreed, end she with the Long-nose began to wash away
as hard as she could, but the more she rubbed and
scrubbed, the bigger the spots grew.

" Ah [ " said the old hag, her mother, " you can't
wash ; let me try."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

EAST O' THE SUN AHD 'WIST o' THE MOON. 319

Bat abe hadn't long taken the shirt in faaDd,
before it got far worse than ever, and with all her
rubbing, and wringing, and Bcrubbing, the spots grew
bigger and blacker, and tiie darker and uglier was the
shin.

Then all the other Trolls began to waeh, but the
longer it lasted, the blacker and uglier the shirt grew,
tilt at last it was as black all over as if it had been up
Ute chimney.

"Ah I" said the Prince, "you're none of you
worth a straw : you can 't wash. Why there, outside,
aits a beggar lassie, I '11 be bound she knows how to
wash better than the whole lot of yon. Cokk in
Lassie I " be shouted.

Well, in she came.

" Can you wash this shirt clean, lassie, you ?" said
he.

" I don't know," she s^d, " but I think I can."

And almost before she had taken it and dipped
* it in the water, it was as white as driTen snow, and
whiter still.

" Yes ; yon are the lassie for me," said the Prince.

At that the old hag flew into such a rage, she
burst on the spot, and the Princess with the long nose
after her, and the whole pack of TroUs after her, — at
least I've ne'ver heard a word about them since.

.yCOOgIC

320 H0B8K TALKS.

As for the Prioce and Princess, they set free all
the poor christian folk who had been carried off and
shnt up there ; and they took with them all the silver
and gold, and flitted away as far as they could &om
the Castle that lay East o' the Sdn akd West o' the
UOOH.

.yCOOgIC

THE HUSBAND WHO WAS TO MIND THE
HOUSE.

/^NCE on a time there was a man, m surly and ctobb,
be DeTer thought hia wife did anything right in
the hoose. So, one evening, in hay-making time, he
came home, scolding and Bwearing, and showing his
teeth and making a dnst

" Dear love, don't be so angry; there's a good
man," said his goody; "to-morrow let's change our
work. Ill go oat with the mowers and mow, and you
ahall mind the house at home.'

Yes I the husband bought that would do very well.
He was quite willing, he said.

So, early next morning, his goody took a scythe
over her neck, and went out into the hay-field with the
mowers, and began to mow ; but the man was to mind
the house, and do the work at home.

First of all, he wanted to chum the butter ; but when
he had churned a while, he got thirs^, and went down
to the cellar to tap a barrel of ale. So, just when he
had knocked in the bung, and was putUng the tap into
the cask, he heard overhead the pig come into the kit-

U.g.VK.yC00glc

322 NOBSE TALES.

clien. Then off he ran up the cellar Btepa, with tlie tap
in his band, as &9t as he could, to look after the pig lest
it should upset the chum ; but when he got up, and saw
the pig bad already knocked the charn OTer, and stood
there, rooting and grunting amoDgst the cream which
was running all over the floor, he got bo wild with rage
that he quite forgot the' ale-barret, and ran at tiie pig
as hard as be could. He caught it, too, just as it ran
out of doors, and gave it such a kick, &at pi^7 lay for
dead on the spot. Then all at once he remembered be
had the tap in hie hand ; but when he got down to the
cellar, every drop of ale bad run out of tbe cask.

Then be went into tbe dairy and found enough
cream left to fill the chum again, and so he began to
chum, for butter they must have at dinner. Wben he
had churned a bit, he remembered that their milking
cow was etill abut up in the byre, and hadn't bad a
bit to eat or a drop to drink all tbe morning, though
the sun was high. Then all at once he thonght 'twas
too far to take her down to the meadow, so be'd just get
berop on the house top — for the bouse, yoo most know,
was thatched with sods, and a fine crop of grass was
growing there. Now their house lay close up against a
steep down, and he thought if be laid a plank across to
the thatch at the back be 'd easily get the cow up.

Bat still he couldn't leave the chum, for there

.yCOOgIC

THE HDSBAND WHO WAS TO MIND THE HOUSE. 323

was falB little babe crawling about on the fioor, and " if
I leave it," be tbought, " the child is safe to upset it"
So he took the chum on his back, and went out with
it ; but then he tbought he'd better first water the cow
before he tamed her oat on the thatch ; so he took up
a bucket to draw water out of the well ; but, as he stoop-
ed down at the well's brink, all the cream ran out of
the chum over bis shoulders, and bo down into the
well.

Now it was near dinner-time, and be hadn't even
got the butter yet ; so he thought he 'd beet boil the
porridge, and filled the pot with water, and hung it over
the fire. When be bad done that, he thought the cow
might perhaps fall off the thatch and break her legs or
her neck. So he got up on the house to tie her up.
One end of the rope he made fast to the cow's neck,
and the other he slipped down the chimney and tied
round his own thigh'; and be had to make haste, for
the water now began to boil in the pot, and ho had still
to grind the oatmeal.

So be began to grind away ; but while he was hard
at it, down fell the cow off the house-top after all, and
as she fell, she dragged the man up the chimney by the
rope. There he stuck fast ; trnd as for the cow, she
hung half way down the wall, swinging between heaveu
and earth, for she could neither get down nor up.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

324 NOBSB TALEB.

And DOW the goody had waited seren lengths and
mteu breadths for her hnaband to come and call them
home to dinner ; hut never a call they had. At last
she thought ahe'd waited long enongh, and went home.
But when she got there and eaw the cow han^g in
Buch AD ugly place, she ran up and cut the rope in two
with her scythe. Bat as she did this, down came her
boflhand out of the chimney ; and so when his old dame
came inmde the kitchen, there she found him atanding
on his head in the porridge pot

.yCOOgIC

DAPPLEGRIM.

/^NCE OD a time there was a rich couple who had
twelve BOQB ; but the youDgeat, wheD he was
grown up, stud be wonlda't stay any longer at home,
but be off into the world to try his lack. His father
and mother sfud he did very well at home, and had
better stay where he was. But no, he couldn't rest;
away he must and would go. So at last they gave
him leave. And when he bad walked a good bit, he
came to a ting's palace, where he asked for a place,
and got it.

Now the daughter of the king of that land had
been carried off into the hill by a Troll, and the king
had no other children ; bo he and all bis land were in
great grief and sorrow, and the king gave his word
that any one who could set her free, shonld have the
Princess and half the kingdom. But there was no one
who could do it, though many tried.

So when the lad had been there a year or so, he
longed to go home again and see hia father and mother,
and back he went ; but when he got home his father
and mother were dead, and his brothers had shared all

.yCOOgIC

326 HORBX TALES.

that the old people owned between tbem, and bo there
was Dothing left for the lad.

" Shui't I have anything at all, then, out of btlier
and mother's goods ?" aud the lad.

" Who could tell you were still alive, when you
went gadding and wandering about ho long?" said
his brothers. " But all the same ; there are twelve
mares up on the hill, that we haven't yet shared
among as ; if yon choose to take them for your
share, you're quite welcome."

Yes [ the lad was quite content ; so be thanked his
brothers, and went at once up on the hUl, where tlie
twelve mares were out at grass. And when he got up
there and found tbem, each of them had a fo^ at her
aide, and one of Uiem had beudes, along with her, a
big dapple-gray foal, which was so sleek that the mm
shone from its coat.

" A fine fellow you are, my little foal," said the lad.

"Yes," said the foal; " but if you'll only kill all
the other foals, so that I may ran and suck all the
mares one year more, you 11 see how big and sleek
I'll be then."

Yes ! the lad was ready to do that ; so he killed «I1
those twelve foals, and went home again.

So when he came back the next year to look after
his foal and maree, the foal was so iat and sleek, that

.yCOOgIC

DAPrLBORIlf. 327

the 8QD BhoDe bom its coat, and it had grown so big,
the lad had hard work to mount it. As for the maies,
they had each of them another foal

" Well, it'e qiiite plain I lost nothing by letting you
Buck all my twelve mares," said the lad to the yearling,
" but now you're big enough to come along with me."

" No," said the colt, " I must bide here a year
longer; and now kill all the twelve foals, that I may
suck all the mares this year too, and you'll see how
big and sleek I'll be by summer."

Yes [ the lad did that ; and next year when he
went up on the hill to look after his colt and tlie
maree, each mare had her foal, but the dapple colt
was 80 tall the lad couldn't reach up to his crest when
he wanted to feel how fat he was ; and bo sleek he was
too, that his coat glistened in the sunshine.

" Big and beautiful you were last year, my colt,"
said the lad, " but this year you're far grander.
There's no such horse iu the king's stable. But now
yoQ must come along with me."

" No," said Dapple again, " I must stay here one
year more. Kill the twelve tbals as before, that I may
suck the mares the whole year, and then just come and
look at me when the summer com^."

Yes I the lad did that ; he killed the foals, and
went away home.

.yCOOgIC

328 , KOBfiB TALES.

Bot when he went up next je&r to look after
Dapple and the mares, he was quite astooiahed. So
tall, and stout, and sturdy, he never thought a boise
could he ; for Dapple bad to lay down on all foms
before the lad could bestride him, and it was hard
work to get up even then, although he lay flat ; and
his (MKtt was BO smooth and sleek, the sunbeams shone
from it as from a looking-glass.

This time Dapple was willing enough to follow the
lad, so he jumped up on his back, and when be came
riding home to his brothers, they all clapped their
hands and crossed themselves, for such a horse they had
never heard of nor seen before.

" If you will only get me the best shoes you can
for my horse, uid the grandest saddle and bridle that
are to be found," said the lad, " you may have my
twelve mares that graze up on the hill yonder, and
their twelve foals into the bargain." For you must
know that this year too every mare had her foal

Yes, his brothers were ready to do that, and so the
lad got such strong shoes under hia horse, tliat the
stones flew high aloft as he rode away across the hills ;
and he bad a golden saddle and a golden bridle, which
gleamed and glistened a long way off.

" Now we're off to the kmg's palace," said Dapple-
grim — that was his name ; " but mind you ask

U.g.VK.yC00glc

DAPPLEOBIH. 329

the king for a good stable aod good foddor for
me."

Yes I the Ud said he would mind ; he 'd be sure not
to forget ; and when he rode off from his brothers',
hoube, you may be sure it wasn't long, with such a horse
under him, before he got to the king's palace.

Wheni he came there the king was standing on the
steps, and stared and stared at the man who came
riding along.

"Nay, nay!" said he, "such a man and such a
horse I never yet saw in all my life."

But when the lad asked if he could get a place in
the king's household, the king was so glad be was ready
to jump and dance as he stood on the steps.

Well, they said, perhaps he might get a place
there.

" Aye," said the lad, " but I must have good
stable-room for my horse, and fodder that one can
trust,"

Yes I he should have meadow-hay and oate, as
much as Dapple could cram, and all the other knights
had to lead their horses out of the stable that Dapple-
grim might stand alone, and have it all to himself.

Bnt it wasn't Jong before all the others in the
king's household began to be jealous of the lad, and
there was no end to the bad things they would have
f2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

380 HOBSE TALKS.

done to him, if they had only dared. At last they
thought of telling the king he had s^d* he was man
eDODgh to Bet the king's daughter free — whom the Troll
had long Muce carried away into the hill — if he only
ch<»e. The king called the lad before him, and Btud
he had heiu-d the lad said he was good to do so aod bo ;
BO DOW he must go and do it. If he did it, he knew
how the king had promised his daughter and half tiie
kingdom, and that promise would foe fiuthfiilly kept ;
if he didn't, he should be killed.

The lad kept on saying he never said any audi
thing ; but it was no good, — the king wouldn't even
listen to him ; and so the end of it was, he was forced to
say he 'd go and try.

So he went into the stable, down in the mouth and
heavy-hearted, and then Dapplegtim asked him at once
why he was in such dumps.

Then the lad told him all, and how he couldn't tell
which way to turn, —

" For as for setting the Princess free, that's down-
right BtufT."

" Oh ! but it might be done, perhaps," said Dapple-
grim. "I'll help yon through; but you must first
have me well shod. Yon muat go and ask for ten
pound of iron and twelve pound of steel for the shoes,
and one smith to hammer and another to bold."

.yCOOgIC

DAPPLEOBIH. 331

Yea, the lad did that, and got for answer " Yea I "
He got both the iroD and the steel, and the amithB, and
so Diq>plegTim wbe shod both strong and well, and off
went the lad from the conrt-yard in a cloud of duet.

But when he came to the hill into which the Prin-
cess had been carried, the pinch was how to get up
the steep wall of rock where the Troll's cave was, in
which the Princess had been bid. For you must know the
hill stood straight up and down right on end, as upright
as a house-wall, and as smooth as a sheet of glass.

The first time the lad went at it he got a little way
np ; but then Dapple's fore-legs slipped, and down they
went again, with a sound like thunder on the hill.

The second time he rode at it be got some way
further up ; but then one foreleg slipped, and down
they went with a crash like a landslip.

But the third time D^ple said, —

" Now we muHt show our mettle ;" and went at it
again till the stones flew heaven-high about them, and
so they got up.

Then tbe lad rode right into the cave at foil speed,
and caught np the Princess, and threw her over his
saddle-bow, and out and down again before the Troll
had time even to get on his legs ; and so the Princess
was freed.

When tbe lad came back to the palace, the kbg was

.yCOOgIC

332 HOBSE TALKS.

both happy and glad to get bis daughter back ; that you
may well believe ; but some how oi other, thon^ 1
don't know how, ths oibsm about ihe court had so
brought it about that the king was angry with the lad
after all.

" Thanh you shall have for freeing my Princeea,"
said he to the lad, when he brought the Frinoeas into the
hall, and made his bov.

" She ought to be mine as well as yonrs ; for you're
a word-fast man, I hope," said the lad.

"Aye, aye t" said the kiiig, " haTe her you shall,
since I stud it ; but, first of all, you must make the sun
shine into my palace hall."

Now, you must know tliere was a high steep ridge
of rock close outside the windows, which threw such a
shade over the hall that never a sunbeam shone into it
" That wasn't in oar bargain," answered the lad ;
" bat 1 see this is past praying agwnst ; I mnet e'en go
and try my luck, for the Princess I must and wiQ have."
So down he went to Dapple, and told him what the
king wanted, and Dapplegrim thought it mif^t easily
be done, bat first of all he must be new shod ; and for
that ten pound of iron, and twelve pound of steel
besides, were needed, and two smiths, one to hammer
and the other to hold, and then they'd soon get the sun
to shine into the palace hall.

.yCOOgIC

DAPPLEQBIH. 333

So vhen the lad asked for all these things, he got
them at once — the king couldn't say nay for very shame ;
and BO Dapplegrim got Dew ehoee, and such shoes I
Then the lad jumped upon his back, and off they went
agtun ; and for every leap tliat Dapplegrim gave, down
sank the ridge fifteen ells into the earth, and so they
went on till there was nothing left of the ridge for the
king to see.

When the lad got back to the king's palace, he
asked the king if the Princess were not his now ; for
now no one could say that the sun didn't shine into the
halL Bat then the others set the king's back up agwn,
and he answered the lad should have her of course, he
had never thought of anything else ; but first of all he
mnst get as grand a horse for the bride to ride on to
church as the bridegroom had himself.

The lad said the king hadn't spoken a word about
this before, and that he thought he had now fairly
earned the Princess ; but the king held to his own ; and
more, if the lad couldn't do that he should lose his life ;
that was what the king said. So the lad went down to
the stable in dolefnl dumps, as you may well iancy, and
there he told Dapplegrim all about it ; how the king had
laid that task on him, to find the bride as good a horse
as the bridegroom had himself, else he would lose his
life.

.yCOOgIC

334 . N0B8B TALSa

" But that's not so easy," he said, " for your match
isn't to be found in the wide world."

" Oh yes, I have a match," said Dtq)plegTim ; '* but
'tisn't 80 easy to find him, for he abides in HelL StOl
we'll try. And now yon mnst go op to tlie king and
ask for new ehoes for me, ten pound of iron, and twelve
pound of steel ; and two smiUis, one to hammer and
one to hold ; and mind you see that the points and
ends of these shoes are sharp ; and twelve sacks of rye,
and twelve sacks of barley, and twelve slaughtered oxen.
we must have with ns ; and mind, we must have the
twelve ox-bides, with twelve hundred spikes driven
into each ; and, let me see, a big tar-barrel ; — that's all
we want"

So the lad went up to the king and asked for all that
Dapplegrim had said, and the king, again thought he
couldn't say nay, for shame's sake, and so the lad got
all he wanted.

Well, he jumped up on Dapplegrim's back, and rode
away &om the palace, and when be had ridden far &r
over hill and heatb, Dapple asked, —

" Do you hear anything ?"

" Yes, I. hear an awful liieaing and mstling op in
the air," said the lad ; "I think I 'm getting afraid."

" That's all the wild birds that fly throngfa the
wood. They are sent to stop us ; but just cut a hois

.yCOOgIC

DAPPLEORIH. 333

in the corD-sacks, and tiien they'll have so mnch to
do with the com, they'll forget us quite."

Yes! the lad did that ; he cut holes in the corn-sacks,
ao that the rye and barley ran out on all sides. Then
all the wild birds that were in the wood came flying
round them bo thick that the sunbeams grew dark ; but
as soon as they saw the com, they couldn't keep to their
purpose, but flew down and began to pick and scratch
at the rye and barley, and after that, they began to
fight among themselves. As for Dapplegrim and the tad,
they forgot all about them, and did them no harm.

So the lad rode on and on — far far over mountain
and dale, over sand-hills and moor. Then Dapplegrim
began to prick up his ears again, and at last he asked
the lad if he heard anything ?

" Tes ! now I hear such an ugly roaring and howl-
ing in the wood all round, it makes me quit« a&aid."

" Ah!" said Dapplegrim, " that's all the wild beasts
^at range through the wood, and they're sent out to
stop uB. But just cast out the twelve carcasses of the
oxen, that will give them enough to do, and so they'll
forget us outright."

Yes 1 the lad cast out the carcasses, and then all the
wild beasts in the wood, both bears, and wolves, and
lions — all fell beasts of all kinds — came after them.
But when they saw the carcasses, they began to fight

U.g.VK.yC00glc

336 NOBaS TALKS.

for them among themaelves, till blood floned in streaxnB ;
bat Dapplegtim and the lad they quite forgot

So the lad rode far away, and they changed the
laodflcape many, many times, for Dappiegrim didn't let
the grass grow ander lum, as you may fiuicy. At last
Dapple gave a great neigh.

" Do you hear anything?" he said.

" Yes, I hear something like a colt neighing loud, a
long, long way off," answered the lad.

" That's a fiill-grown colt then," said Dappiegrim,"
if we hear him neigh so loud such a long way
off."

After that they travelled a good bit, changing the
landscape once or twice, maybe. Then Dappiegrim
gave another noJgh.

" Now listen, and tell me if you hear anything,"
he said.

" Yes, now I hear a neigh Uke'^a full-grown horse,"
answered the Ind.

"Ayet aye 1" said Dappiegrim, " you'll hear him
once ogfun soon, and then you'll hear he's got a voice
of his own."

So they travelled on and on, and changed the land-
scape once or twice, perhaps, and then Dappiegrim
neighed the third time ; but before be could ask the
lad if he heard anything, something gave such a neigh

.yCOOgIC

DAPPLBGRtH. 33?

across the heathy hill-Bide, the lad thought hill and
nwlt would surely be rent asunder.

" Now he '8 here I " said Dapplegrim ; " make haste,
DOW, and Uirow the ox hides, with the spikes in them,
over me, and throw down the tar-barrel on the plain ;
then climb up into that great spruce-fir yonder. When
it comes, fire will flash out of both nostrils, aud then
the lar-barrel will catch fire. Now, mind what I say.
If the flame rises, I win ; if it falls, I lose ; but if you
see me winning, take and cast the bridle — you must take
it off me — over its head, and then it will be tame enough."

So just as the lad had done throwing the ox hides,
with the spikes, over Dapplegrim, and had cast down
the tar-barrel on the plain, and had got well up into
the spruce-fir, up galloped a horse, with fire flashing
out of his nostrils, and the flame caught the tar-barrel
at once. Then Dapplegrim and the strange horse began
to fight till the stones fiew heaven high. They fought,
and bit, and kicked, both with fore-feet and hind-feet,
and sometimes the lad could see them, and sometimes
he couldn't; but at last the flame began to rise; for
wherever the strange horse kicked or bit, he met the
spiked hides, and at last he had to yield. When the
lad saw that, he wasn't long in getting down from the
tree, and in throwing the bridle over its bead, and then
it wae so tame you could hold it with a pack-^read.
Q

U.g.VK.yC00glc

338 HORSE TALES.

And what do you think ? that horse w&s d^pled
too, and so like Dapplegrim, you couldn't teQ nhich
was which. Then the lad bratrode the new Dapple
he had broken, end rode home to the palace, and old
Dapptegrim ran loose by his aide. So when he got
hortie, there stood the king out in the yard.

" Can you tell me now," said the lad, " whidi is
the horse I have caught and broken, and which is the
one I had before. If you can't, I think your dan^ter
is fairly mine."

Then the king went and looked at both Dapples,
high and low, before and behind, but tliere wasn't a
hair on one which wasn't on the other as well.

"No," said the king, "that I can't; and since
you've got my daughter such a grand boree for her
wedding, yon shall have her with all my heart. But
still we'll have one trial more, just to see whether
you're fat«d to have her. First, she shall bide hereelf
twice, and then you shall hide yourself twice. If yoa
can find out her hiding-place, and she can't find out
yours, wliy then yon 're fated to have her, and so you
shall have her."

" That's not in the bargain either," said Uie lad ;
" but we must just try, since it must be so ;" and so
the Princess went off to hide herself first.

So she turned herself into a duck, and lay swimmiog

U.g.VK.yC00glc

DAPPLEORllI. 339

OD a pond that was close to the palace. But the lad
only ran down to the stable, and asked Dapplegrim
what she had done with herself.

" Oh, you only need to take your gun," said Dap-
plegrim, " and go down to the brink of the pond, and
aim at the duck which hes swimming about there, and
she'll soon show herself."

So the lad snatched up his gun and ran off to the
pond. "I'll just take a pop at this duck," he aaid,
and began to aim at it.

" Nay, nay, dear friend, don't shoot It's I," said
the Princess.

So he had found her once.

The second time the Princess turned herself into a
loaf of bread, end Ifud herself on the table among four
other loaves ; and so like was she to the others, no one
could say which was which.

But the lad went again down to the stable to Dap-
plegrim, and said bow the Princess had hidden herself
again, and he couldn't tell at all what had become of
her.

" Oh, just take and sharpen a good bread-knife,"
said Dapplegrim, " and do as if you were going to cut
m two the third loaf on the left hand of those four loav^
which are lying on the dresser in the king's kitchen,
and you'll find her soon enough."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

340 NORSK TALEB.

Yes I the lad was down in the kitchen in no time,
kod began to Bharpen the biggest bread-knife he coald
lay hands on ; then he caught hold of the third loaf od
the led hand, and put the knife to it, as though he waa
going to cut it in two.

" I'll juBt have a elice off this loaf^" he said.

" Nay, dear Mend," aaid the Princess, " don't cut.
It's I."

^o be had found her twice.

Then he was to go and hide ; but he and Dapple-
grim had settled it all so well beforehand, it wasn't easy
to find him. First be turned himself into a tick, and hid
himself iu Dapplegrim's left nostril ; and the Princess
went about hunting him CTerywhere, high and low ; at
last she wanted to go into Dapplegrim's stall, bat be
began to bite and kick, so that she dared u't go near
him, and so she couidnH find the )ad.

" Well," she stud, " since I can't find you, you must
show where you are yourself;" and in a trice the lad
Htood there on the stable floor.

The second time Dapplegrim told him a^n what
to do ; and then he turned himself into a clod of earth,
and stuck himself between Dapplc's hoof and shoe on
Uic near forefoot So the Princess hunted up and down,
out and in, everywhere ; at last ahe came into the
stable, and wanted to go into Dapplegrim's loose-box.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

DAPPLEQBIU. 341

This time he let her come up to him, and she pried
high and low, bat under hie hoofs she couldn't come, for
he stood firm as a rock on his feet, and so she couldn't
find the lad.

" Well ; yon must just show yourself, for I'm snre
I can 't find you," sfud the PrinceBS, and as she spoke the
lad stood by her side on the stable floor.

" Now you are mine indeed," said the lad ; " for
now you can sea I'm Eated to have you." This he said
both to the father and daughter.

" Tea ; it is so fated," said the king ; " so it must
be."

Then they got ready the wedding in right down
earnest, and lost no time about it ; and the lad got on
Dapplegrim, and the Princess on Dapplegrim's match,
and then you may fancy they were not long on their
way to the church.

.yCOOgIC

FARMER WEATHERSKY.

/~iNCE OD a time tli«re was a man and his wife,
whu had an only son, and his name was Jack.
The old dame thought it high time for her son to go oat
into the world to learn a trade, and bade her hosband
be off with him.

" But all you do," she said, " mind you bind him to
some one who can teach him to be master above all
masters ;" and with that she put some food and a roQ
of tobacco into a bag, and packed them off.

Well I they went to many masters ; but one and
all said they conld make the lad as good as themselves,
but better they couldn't make him. So when the man
came home again to his wife with that answer, she
said, —

" I don't care what you make of him ; but this I
aay and stick to, you must bind him to some one where
he can learn to he master above all masters ;" and
with that she packed up more food and another roll of
tobacco, and father and son had to be off again.

Now when they had walked a while they got upon

U.g.VK.yC00glc

PAKHKH WEATHERSIlT. 343

the ice, and there they met a maD who came whisking
along in a sledge, and drove a black horee.

" Whither away ?" said the man.

" Well ! " said the father, " 1 'm going to bind my
son to some one who ia good to teach him a trade ; but
my old dame comes of such fine folk, she will have
him taught to be master above all mastei's."

" Well met then," said the driver ; " I'm just the
man for your money, for I'm looking out for such on
apprentice. Up with you behind!" he added to the
lad, and whisk I off they went, both of them, and
aledge and horae, right up into the air.

" Nay, nay !" cried the lad'ij father, " you haven't
told me your name, nor where you live."

" Oh !" said the master, " I'm at home alike north
and south, and east and west, and my name's Farmer
Weatherahy. In a year and a day you may come here
again, and then I'll tell you if I like him." So away
they went through the air, and were soon out of sight.

So when the man got home, his old dame asked
what had become of her son.

" Well," said the man, " Heaven knows, I'm sure
I don't. They went off up aloft ;" and so he told her
what had happened. But when the old dame heard that
her husband couldn't tell at all when her son's ap-
prenticeship would be out, nor whither he had gone, she

.yCOOgIC

344 KOBSE TALIS.

packed him off again, and gave him another bag of food
and uiother roll of tobacco.

So, when he had walked a bit, he came to a great
wood, which stretched on and on all day as he walked
through it. When it got dark he saw a great light, and
he went towards it. After a loog, long time he came
to a little but under a rock, snd. outside stood an old
hag drawing water out of a well with her nose, bo long
was it.*

" Good evening, mother 1" said the man.

" The same to you," said the old hag. " It's hun-
dreds of years since any one called me mother."

" Can I have lodging here to-night? " asked the man.

" No I that you can't," said she.

But then the man pulled out his roll of tobacco,
lighted his pipe, and gave the old dame a wbifl^ and a
pinch of snuET. Then she was so happy she began to
dance for joy, and the end was, she gavo the man leave
to stop the night.

So next morning he began to ask after Fanner
Weathersky. " No ! she never heard tell of him, but
she ruled over all the four-footed beasts ; perhaps some
of them might know him." So she played them all
home with a pipe she had, and asked them all, but
there wasn't one of them who knew anything about
Farmer Weathersky.

.yCOOgIC

FARUER WKATHEBSKT. 345

" Well I" said the old hag, " there are three sifitera
of U8 ; maybe one of the other two know where he
lives. I'll lend you my horse and Bledge, and then
you'll be at her hooee by night; but it's at least three
hundred miles ofT, the nearest way."

Then the man started off, and at night reached the
honse, and when he came there, there stood another
old hag before the door, drawing water out of the well
with her nose.

" Good evening, mother!" said the man.

" The same to you," said sho, " its hundreds of
years since any one called me mother."

" Can I lodge here to-night ?" asked the man.

" No!" said the old hag.

But he took out his roU of tobacco, lighted bis
pipe, and gave the old dame a whiff, and & good pinch
of snuff besides, on the back of her hand. Then she
was so happy that she began to jump and dance for
joy, and so the man got leave to stay the night. When
that was over, he began to ask after Farmer Weather-
sky. " No 1 she had never heard tell of him ; but
she ruled all the fish in the sea ; perhaps some of them
might know something about him." So she played
them all home with a pipe she had, and asked them,
but there wasn't one of them who knew anything
about Farmer Weathersky.

.yCOOgIC

346 HORSE TALES.

" Well, well ! " said the old hag, " there's one aster
of lis left ; maybe she knows something abont him.
She lives six hundred miles off, but I'll teocl ;ou
tn; horse and sledge, and then you'll get there by
nightfall"

Then the man started off, and reached t^e house
by nightfall, and there he found another old hag who
stood before tiie grate, and stirred the fire with her
nose, so long and tough it was.

" Good evening, mother!" said the man.

"The same to you," said the old hag; "it's
hundreds of years since any one called me mother."

" Can I lodge here to-night?" asked the man.

" No," 8(ud the old hag.

Then the man pulled out his roll of tobacco again,
and lighted his pipe, and gave the old hag sach a pinch
of snuff, it covered the whole back of her hand. Then
she got so happy she began to dance for joy, and so
the man got leave to stay.

But when the night was over, he began to ask
after Farmer Weathersky. She never heard tefl of
him she said ; but she ruled over all the birds of the
air, and so she played them all home with a pipe she
had, and when she had mustered them all, the Eagle
was misBuig. But a little while after he came flying
home, and when she asked him, be said he had just

.yCOOgIC

FAItUEB WEATHERSKV. 347

come stnught from Farmer Weathersky. Then the
old hag said he must guide the mau thither ; but the
eagle said he must have Bomethiug to eat first, and
besides he must rest till the next day ; he was so tired
with flying that long way, he could scarce rise irom
the earth.

So when he had eaten his fill and taken a good
rest, the old hag pulled a feather out of the Eagle's
tail, and put the man there in its stead ; so the Eagle
flew off with the man, and flew, and flew, but they
didn't reach Farmer Weathereky's house before mid-
night.

So when they got there, the Eagle said, —

" There are heaps of dead bodies lying about outside,
but you mustn't mind them. Inside the house every
man Jack of them arc bo sound asleep, 'twill be hard
work to wake them ; but you must go straight to the
table drawer, and take out of it three crumbs of bread,
and when you hear some one snoring loud, pull three
feathers out of his head ; he won't wake for aH that."

So the man did us he was told, uid after he had
taken the crumbs of bread, he pulled out the first
feather.

" OOF ! " growled Farmer Weathersky, for it was
he who snored.

So the man pulled out another feather.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

348 NORSE TALES.

"OOF!" he growled again.

But when he pulled out the third, Fanner Weather-
sky roared so, the man thought roof and wall would
have flown asunder, but for all that the snorer slept od.

AHer Uiat the Eagle told him what he was to do.
He went to the yard, and there at the stable-door be
stumbled against a big gray Btone, and that be bf^ up ;
underneath it lay three cbipB of wood, and those he
picked up too ; then he knocked at the stable-door, and
it opened of itself. Then be threw down the three
crumbs of bread, and a bare came and ate them np ;
that hare be caught and kept. After that the Eagle
bade him pull throe feathers out of bis tail, and put the
bare, the etooe, the chips, and himself there instead,
and then be would fly away borne with tbem all.

So when the Eagle bad flown a long way, be lighted
on B rock to rest

" Do you see anything?" it asked.

" Yes," said the mail, " I see a flock of crows com-
ing flying a^er us."

" We'd better be off again, then," said tbe Eagle,
who flew away.

After a while it asked again, —

" Do you see anything now?"

" Yes," said the man ; " now the crows are close
behind us."

.yCOOgIC

FAttHKB WEATBEBSKY. 349

" Drop DOW the three feathers you pulled out of his
head," said the Eagle.

Well, the man dropped the feathers, and as soon as
ever he dropped them they became a flock of ravens
which drove the crows home again. Then the Bagle
flew on far away with the man, and at last it lighted on
another stone to rest

"Do you see anything?" it said.

"I'm not sure," said the man; "I fancy I see
Eomething coming far, far away."

" We'd better get on then," said the Eagle ; and
after a while it said again —

"Do yon see anything?"

"Yes," said the man, "now he's close at our
heels."

" Now, you must let fall the chips of wood which
you took from under the gray stone at the stable
door," said the Eagle.

Yes! the man let them fall, and they grew at once
np into tall thick wood, bo that Farmer Weathersky had
to go back home to fetch an axe to hew bis way through.
While he did this, the Eagle flew ever so far, but when
it got tired, it lighted on a fir to rest.

" Do you see anything ?" it said.

" Well [ I 'm not sure," said the man ; " but I fancy
I catch a glimpse of something far away."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

350 NOBEE TALES.

" We 'd best be off then," said the Eagle ; hnA off it
flew as fast as it could. After a while it said —

" Do yon Bee anything now ? "

" Yea 1 now he's close behind ua," said the man.

" Now, you must drop the big stone you lifted up
at the stable door," said the Eagle.

The man did so, and as it fell, it became a great
high mouutwn, which Farmer Weatbersky had to break
bis way through. When he had got half throng the
mountain, he tripped and broke one of his legs, and so
he had to limp home again and patch it up.

Bnt while he was doing this, the Eagle flew away
to the man's bouse with him and the hare, and as soon
as they got home, the mui went into the churchyard
and sprinkled Christian mould over the hare, and lo !
it turned into " Jack," his son.

Well, you may fancy the old dame was glad to get
her son again, bat still she wasn't easy in her mind
about his trade, and she wouldn't rest till he gave ha
a proof that he was " master above ell masters."

So when the fair came roimd, the lad changed him-
self into a bay horse, and told his father to lead him to
tlie fair.

" Now, when any one comes," he said, " to buy me,
you may ask a hundred dollars for me ; but mind you
don't forget to take the headstall off roe; if yon do,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

FARHEB WEATHESSKV. 351

Farmer Weathersky will keep me for ever, for he it is
who will come to deal with yon."

So it turned out. Up came a horae-dealer, who had
a great wish to deal for the horse, and he gave a hun-
dred dollars down for him ; but when the bargain was
struck, and Jack's father bad pocketed the money, the
horse-dealer wanted to have the headstall. " Nay, nay I "
said the man, " there's nothing about that in the bar-
gain ; and besides, you can't have the headstall, for
I've other horees at home to bring to town to-
morrow."

So each went bis way; but they hadn't gone far
before Jack took his own shape and ran away, and
when bis father got home there sat Jack in tbe ingle.

Next day he turned himself into a brown horse, and
told his father to drive him to the fair.

" And when any one comes to buy me, you may
ask two hundred dollars for me — he'll give that and
treat yon besides ; but whatever you do, and however
much you drink, don't forget to take the headstall off
me, else you'll never set eyes on me again."

So all happened as he had said : the man got two
hundred dollars for the horse and a glass of drink
besides, fmd when the buyer and seller parted, it was as
much as he could do to remember to take off the head-
stall. But the buyer and the horse hadn't got fer on

.yCOOgIC

352 NOBSE TALKS.

the road before Jack took his own shape, and when the
man got home, there aat Jack in the ingle.

The third day, it was the same etory over again :
^e lad turned himself into a black horee, and told hie
father some one would come and bid three hundred
dollars for bim, and fill his skin with meat and drink
besides ; but however much he ate or drank, he was to
mind and not foi^t to take the headstall ofT, else he'd
have to stay with Farmer Weathersky all bb life long.

" No, no ; I '11 not forget, never fear," said the
man.

So when he came to the fair, be got three hundred
dollars for the horse, and as it wasn't to be a dry bat^gain,
Fanner Weatbersky made bim drink so much that he
quite forgot to take the headstall ofT, and away weot
Farmer Weatbereky with the horse. Now when he
had gone a little way Farmer Weathersky thought he
would just stop and have another glass of brandy ; so
he put a barrel of red hot n^ls under bis horse's nose,
and a sieve of oats under his tail, hung the halter
upon a hook, and went iuto the inn. So the hoisc
stood there, and stamped and pawed, and snorted and
reared. Just then out came a lassie, who thought it a
shame to treat a horse so.

" Oh, poor beastie," she sud, " what a cruel master
you must have to treat you so," and an she said tbisi

.yCOOgIC

FARUER WEATHEBSEY. 353

she palled the halter off the hook, eo that the horse
might tarn round and taate the oats.

" I'm after too," roared Fanner Weathersky, who
came rushing out of the door.

But the horse had already shaken off the headstall,
and jumped into a duck-pond, where he turned himself
tQto a tiny fish. In went Farmer Weathersky after
him, and turned himself into a great pike. Then Jack
turned himself into a dove, and Farmer Weathersky
made himself into a hawk, and chased and struck at the
dove. But just then a Princess stood at the window of
the palace and saw this struggle.

" Ah 1 poor dove," she cried, " if you only knew
what I know, you'd fly to me through this window."

So the dove came flying in through the window,
and turned itself into Jack again, who told his own
tale.

" Turn yourself into a gold ring, and put yourself
on my finger," said the Princess.

"Nay, nay I" said Jack, "that'll never do, for
then Farmer Weathersky will make the king sick,
and tiieu there'll be no one who can make him well
again till Father Weathersky comes and cures him,
and then, for his fee, he'll ask for that gold ring."

" Then I'll say I had it from my mother, and can't
part with it," said the Princess.
q2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

354 MOBSE TALKS.

Well, Jack turned himself into a gold ring, and put
himself on the Princess' finger, and bo Farmer Wea-
thersky couldn't get at him. Bat thea followed what
the tad had foretold; the king fell sick, and t^ere wasn't
a doctor in the kingdom who could cure him tjll Farmer
Weathersky came, and he asked for the ring off the Prin-
cess' finger for hie fee. So the king sent a messenger
to the Princeiis for the ring ; but the Princess said she
wouldn't part with it, her mother had left it her.
When the king heard that, he flew into a rage, and sud
he would hiive the ring, whoever left it to her.

" Well," said the Princess, " it's no good being cross
about it. I can't get it off, and if you must have the
ring, you must take my finger too."

"If you'll let me try, I'll soon get the ring off,"
said Fanner Weathersky.

"No, thanks, I'll try myself," said the Princess,
and fiew off to the grate and put ashes on her finger.
Then the ring slipped off fuid was Lost among the ashes.
So Farmer Weathersky turned himself into & cock, who
scratched and pecked after the ring in llie grate, till
he was up to the ears in ashes. But while he was
doing this, Jack turned himself into a fox, and bit off
the cock's head ; and so if the Evil One was in Farmer
Weathersky, it is all over with him now.

.yCOOgIC

THE TWO STEP-SISTERS.

r~\NCE on a time there wae a couple, and each of them

had a daughter by a former marriage. The woman's
danghter was dall and lazy, and could never turn her
hand to anything, and the man's daughter was brisk
and ready ; but somehow or other abe could never do
anything to her stepmother's liking, and both the woman
and her daughter would have been glad to be rid of
her.

So it fell one day the two girls were to go out aod
spin by the side of the well, and the woman's daughter
had flax to spin, but the man's daughter got nothing to
spin but bristles.

"I don't know how it is," said the woman's
daughter, "you're always so quick and sharp, but still
I'm not afraid to spin a match with you."

Well, they agreed that she whose thread first
snapped, should go down the well. So they span
away ; but just as they were bard at it, the man's
daughter's thread broke, and she had to go down the
well. But when she got to the bottom, she saw far

U.g.VK.yC00glc

356 K0B8B TALES.

aod wide arouDd tier a fair green mead, and ehe hadn't
hart herself at all.

So she walked on a bit, till she came to a hedge
which she had to crosa.

" Ah ! don't tread bard on ue, pray don't, and
I'll help you another time, that I will," said the Hedge.

Then the lassie made herself as light as she coold,
and trode ao carefully she scarce touched a twig.

So she weDt on a bit farther, tQl she came to a
briudled cow, which walked there with a milking-pail
on her boms. 'T was a large pretty cow, and her odder
was BO full and round.

" Ah ! be BO good as to milk me, pray," said the
Cow; "I'm so full of milk. Drink as much as yon
please, and throw the rest over my hoofs, and see if I
don't help you some day."

So ihe man's daughter did as the cow begged. As
soon as she touched the teats, the milk eponted ont
into the pail. Then she drank till her thirst was
slaked ; and the rest she threw over the cow's hoofs,
and the milking pail she hung on her horns agfun.

So when she had gone a bit further, a big wether
met her, which had such thick lung wool, it hung down
and draggled afler him on the ground, and on one of
his horns hung a great pair of shears.

" Ah, please clip off my wool," said the Sheep, " for

.yCOOgIC

THE TWO STKP-SISTERB. 357

here I go about witb all thia wool, and catcti up everv
thing I meet, aud beeideB, it's so warm, I'm alrr' st
choked. Take as much of the fleeoe an you pV *e,
and twist the rest round my ueck, and aee if I i ou't
help you some day." /

Yes ! ' she was willing enough, and the fshekp lay
down of himself on her lap, and kept quite still, uid she
clipped him so neatly, there wasn't a scratch on hin'
skin. Then she took as mucb of the wool as she chose,
and the rest she twisted round the neck of the sheep.

A little further on, she came to an apple-tree, which
was loaded with apples ; all it's branches were bowed to
the ground, and leaning against the stem was a slender
pole.

" Ah t do be so good as to pluck my apples off me,"
said the Tree, " so that my branches may straighten
themselres again, for it's bad work to stand so crooked ;
but when you beat them down, don't strike me too
hard. Then eat as many as you please, lay the rest
round my root, and see if I don't help you some day
or other."

Yes, she plucked all she could reach with her hands,
and then she took the pole and knocked down the rest,
and afterwards she ate her fill, and the rest she laid
neatly round the root.

So she walked on a long, long way, and then she

U.g.VK.yC00glc

358 NOBSS TA.LE3.

came to a great farm-houBe, where an old hag of the
Troll's lived with her daughter. There she turned in to
ask if she could get a place.

" Oh I " eaid the old hag ; " it's no use your trying.
We've had ever ao many maids, but none of them was
worth her salt."

But she begged so prettily that they would just take
her on trial, that at last the; let her stay. So the old
bag gave her a sieve, and hade her go and fetch water
in it She thought it strange to feteh water in a sieve,
but stilt she went, aud when she ause to the well, the
little birds began to sing —

" D»ab in olaj.

Daub Id cl&y.
Stuff in ttnlw."

Yes, she did so, and found she could carry water in a
sieve well enough ; bnt when she got home with the
water, and the old witch saw the sieve, she cried out
" This yod have n't suckki) out of your owk

BREAST."

So the old witch said, now she might go into the
byre to pitch out dung and milk kine ; but when she
got there, she found a pitchfork so long and heavy,
she couldn't etir it, much less work with it She
didn't know at all what to do, or what to make of it ;
hat the little birds snog again that she should take the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE TWO STBP-8ISTEB3. 359

broom-stick and toss out a little with that, and all the
rest of the dung would Sy afler it. So she did that,
and as soon as ever she began with the broom-stick,
the byre was as clean as if it had been swept and
washed.

Now she bad to milk the kine, but they were so
restless that they kicked and frisked ; there was no
getting near them to milk them.

But the little birds sung outside, —
" A little drop, & tinj aup.
For tbe little birds to driok it op."

Yes, she did that; she juet milked a tiny drop,
'twas as much as she could, for tbe little birds outBide;
and then all the cows stood still and let her milk them.
They neither kicked nor frisked; they didn't even lift
a leg.

So when the old witch saw her coming in with the
milk, she cried out, —

"This yod haven't sucked odt op tour own

BREAST. But now JUST TAKE THIS BLACK WOOL AND
WASH IT WHITE."

This the lassie was at her wit's end to know how
to do, for she had never seen or beard of any one who
could wash black wool white. Still she said nothing,
but took the wool and went down with it to the well.
There the little birds sung again, and told her to take

.yCOOgIC

360 MORSE TALES.

the wool and dip it into the great butt that stood there ;
and she did eo, aod out it came as white aa rdov.

"Weill I never I" B«ud the old witch, when she
come in with the wool, "it's no good keeping yon.
You can do everything, and at last you'll be the plague
of my life. We'd best part, so take your wages and
be oft"

Then the old bag drew out three caskets, one red,
one green, and one blue, and of these the lassie was to
choose one aa wages for her Berrice. Now she didn't
know at all which to choose, but the little birds sung—

" Don't tske tbe red, don't take the green.
But take the blue, where ma; be Men
Three littlo crossei oil ia e raw,
We mw the marki, and so we know.''

So she took the blue casket, as the birds sang.

" Bad luck to you, tlien/' stud the old witch ; " see
if I don't make you pay for this ! "

So when the man's daughter was just setting off, the
old witch shot a red-hot bar of iron after her, but she
sprang behind the door and hid hereelf, so that it missed
her, for her friends, the little birds, bad told her beforehand
how to behave. Then she walked on and on as fact u
ever she could ; but when she got to the Apple Tree, she
beard an awful clatter behind her on the road, and that
was the old witch and her daughter coming after her.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE TWO 8TEP-BI9TEB8. 361

So the lassie was so frighteDed and scared, she
didn't koow what to do.

" Cocae hither to me, lassie, do yon hear," said the
Apple tree, " I'll help yon ; get tinder my branches
and hide, for if they catch yoo, they'll tear you to death,
and t^e the casket from you."

Yes I she did so, and she had hardly hidden herself
before up came the old witch and her daughter.

" Have you seen any lassie pass this way, you
apple tree," sud the old hag.

" Tea, yea," said the Apple tree ; " one ran by here
an hour ago; but now she's got so far a-head, yoa'U
never catch her up."

So the old witch turned back and went home
again.

Then the lassie walked on a bit, but when she came
just about where the sheep was, she heard an awfnl
clatter beginning on the road behind her, and she
didn't know what to do, she was bo scared and
frightened ; for she knew well enotigh it was the old
witch, who had thought better of it.

" Gome hither to me, lasae," said the Wether, " and
I '11 help jou. Hide yourself under my fleece, and then
they'll not see you ; else they'll take away the casket,
and tear yon to death."

Just then up came the old witch, tearing along.

B

U.g.VK.yC00glc

362 N0B8B TALES.

. " Have yoa seen any lassie pass here, yoa sheep P "
she cried to the wether.

" Oh yes," said the Wether, " I saw wie ao bonr
ago, bnt she ran so fast, yon '11 never catch her."

So the old witch toraed rotind and went home.

But when the lassie had come to where she met the
cow, she heard another awful clatter behind her.

" Come hither to me, lassie," said the Cow, " and
I'll help yon to hide yourself under my udder, else
the old hag will come and take away your casket, and
tear you to death."

Tme enongh, it wasn't long before she came np.

" Have you seen any lassie pass here, you cow?"
smd the old hag.

" Yes, I saw one an hoor ago," said the Cow, " hot
she's far away now, for she ran so fast I don't think
you'll ever catch her up."

So the old hag turned round, and went back home
again.

When the lassie had wiJked a long, long way foither
on, and was not far from the hedge, she heard agun
that awltil clatter on the road behind her, and she got
scared and frightened, for she knew well enough it was
the old hag and her daughter, who had changed their
minds.

" Come hither to me, lassie," sud the Hedge, *' and

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TBI TWO 8TBP-8IST£ItS. 363

I'll help yoa. Creep under my twigB, ho that tiiey
can't eee you; else they'll take the casket from yon,
wid tear you to deatli."

Yes I she made all the baste she could to get under
the twigs of the hedge.

" Have you seen any hissie pass this way, you
hedge ?" said the old hag to the hedge.

"No, I haven't seen anylassie," answered the Hedge,
and was as smootii-tongued as if he had got melted butter
in his mouth ; hut all the while be spread bimself out,
and made himself so big and tall, one had to think twice
bef<H« crosung him. And so the old witch bad no help
for it but to tnm round and go home aguu.

So when the man's daughter got home, her step-
mother and her step-sister were more spiteful against
her than ever ; for now she was much neater, and bo
smart, it wa8 a joy to look at her. Still she couldn't
get leave to live with them, but they drove her out into
a pig^sty. That vas to be her bouse. So she scrubbed
it out 80 neat and clean, and then she opened her cas-
ket, just to see what she had got for her wages. But
as soon as ever she unlocked it, she saw inside so much
gold and silver, and lovely things, which came streaming
out till all the walls were hung with them, uid at last
the pig-4^ was far grander than the grandest king's
palace. And when the step-motber and her daughter came

U.g.VK.yC00glc

364 N0B8E TALEB.

to see this, they almost jnmped out of tlieir skiD, and
begaD to ask ber what kiad of a place she bad down there?

" Oh," said the lassie " can't yon see, when I have
got such good wages. 'Twas such a family, aod such
& mistress to serve, you couldn't find their like any-
where."

Yesl the woman's daughter made up her mind to go
out to serve too, that she might get just sucfa another
gold casket. So they sat down to spin again, and now
the woman's daughter was to spin bristles, and the
man's daughter flax, and she whose thread first snapped,
was to go down the well. It wasn't long, as yon may
fancy, before the woman's daughter's thread anapped,
and 80 they threw her down the well.

So the same thing happened. She fell to the
bottom, but met with no harm, and found herself on a
lovely green meadow. When she had walked a bit
she came to the hedge.

" Don't tread bard on me, pray, lassie, and I'll
help you again," said the Hedge.

" Oh \" said she, " what should I care for a bundle
of twigs?" and tramped and stamped over the hedge
till it cracked and groaned again.

A little &rther on she came to the cow, which
walked about ready to bnrst for want of milking.

" Be so good as to milk me, kssie," said the Cow,

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TEE TWO STBP-SISTEBS. 365

" aod I'll help ;ou ogam. Drink as much as you
please, but throw the rest over my hoofs."

Tes I she did that ; she milked the cow, and drank
till she could drink no more ; but when she left off,
there was none left to throw over the cow's hoofs, and
as for the pail, she tossed it down the hill and walked
on.

When she had gone a bit further, she came to the
sheep which walked along with his wool dragging after

" Oh, be 80 good as to clip me, lassie," said the
Sheep, " and I'll serve you again. Take as much of the
wool as you will, but twist the rest round my neck."

Well I she did that ; but she went bo carelessly to
work, that she cut great pieces out of the poor sheep,
and as for the wool, she carried it all away with her.

A little while after she came to the apple tree,
which stood there quite crooked with fruit again.

" Be so good as to pluck the apples off me, that my
limbs may grow straight, for it's weary work to stand all
awry," said the Apple Tree. " But please take care not
to beat me too hard. Eat as many as you will, but
lay the rest neatly, round my root, and I'll help yon

Well, she plucked those nearest to her, and
thrashed down those she couldn't reach with the pole,

U.g.VK.yG00glc

366 KOBSK TALKS.

bat she didn't care how ahe did it, and broke off and
tore down great boaghs, and ate till she was as fall ae
full coiild be, and then she threw down the rest nnder
the tree.

So when she had gone a good bit farther, she came
to the fann whitre the old witch lived. Ihere she
asked for a place, but the old hag said she wonldn't
have any mwe maids, for they were either worth
nothing, or were too clever, and cheated her oat of her
goods. But the woman's daughter was not to be pot
off, she tcmiid have a place, so the old witch said ahe'd
give her a trial, if she was fit for anything.

The first thing she had to do was to fetch water in
a sieve. Well, off she went to the well, and drew wat^
in a sieve, bat as last as she got it in it ran out again.
So the little birds sang —

" D»nb in da;,

PatinBtniri

Dsab in day,

Pntimtrawr'
But she didn't care to listen to the birds' song, and
pelted them viiih day, till they fiew off far away. And
so she had to go home with the emp^ ueve, and got
well scolded by the old witch.

Then she was to go into the byre to clean it, and
milk the kine. Bat she was too good for sach dirty
work, she Uiought. Still, she went oat into the byie,

.yCOOgIC

THE TWO 8TSF-BISTBIt3. 3d7

bat when she got there, she couldn't get on at all with
the pitchfork, it was eo big. The birds said the same
to her as they had said to her step-«ister, aod told her
to take the broomstick, and toss oat a little dang, and
then all the rest would fly after it ; bat all she did with
the broomstick was to throw it at the birds. When
she came to milk, the kine were so nnmly, tiiey kicked
and pushed, and every time she got a little milk in the
pwl, over they kicked it. Then the turds sang
agwn—

" A Ettle drop ind a tiny sup
For the little biidt to drink il np."

But she beat and banged the cowa about, and threw
and pelted at the birds everything she could lay hold
of, and made such a to do, 'twas awful to see. So
she didn't make much either of her pitching or milk-
ing, and when she came in doors she got blows as
well as hard words from the old witch, who sent her off
to wash the black wool white ; but that, too, she did no
better.

Then the old witch thought this really too bad, eo
she Bet oat the three caskets, one red, one green, and
one blue, and Baid she'd no longer any need of her ser-
vices, for she wasn't worth keeping, but for wages she
should have leave to choose whichever casket she
pleased.

368 H0B8& TALES.

Then sung the little birds, —

" Dou't Uke Um ni, don't take the grten,
But obiNe tbe blue, where luiy ba nen
Three liUle croMBa, all in a row ;
We Mv the loula, uid m we know."

She didn't care a pio for what the birds sang, bnt
took the red, which caught her eye most And so she
set ont on her road home, and she went along qnietlj
and easily enough ; there was no one who came after
her.

So when she got home, her mother was ready to
jump with joy, and the two went at once into the ingle,
and put the casket up there, for they made up their
minds there could be nothing in it but pnre silver and
gold, and they tbonght to have all the walls and roof
gilded like the pigsty. But lo I when they opened the
casket there came tumbling out nothing but toads, and
frogs, and snakes ; and worse than that, whenever the
woman's daughter opened her mouth, out popped a toad
or a snake, and all the vermin one ever thought of, so
tJiat at last there was no living in the house with her.

That was all the wages $he got for going out to ser-
vice with the old witch.

.yCOOgIC

LORD PETER.

/^NGE on a time there waa a poor couple, and they
had nothing in the world but three sons. What
the names the two elder had I can't s&j, but the
youngest he was called Peter. So when their father
and mother died, the sons were to share what was left,
but there was nothing but a porridge-pot, a griddle,
and a cat.

The eldest, who was to have first choice, he took
the pot ; " for," said he, " whenever I lend the pot to
any one to boil porridge, I can always get leave to
scrape it."

The second took the griddle ; " for," B&id he,
" whenever I lend it to any one, I'll always get a morsel
of dough to make a bannock."

But the youngest, he had no choice left him ; if he
was to choose anything it must be the cat.

" Well 1 " said he, " if I lend the cat to any one I

' shan't get much by that ; for if pussy gets a drop of

milk, she'll want it all herself. Still, I'd best take her

along with me; I shouldn't like her to go about here

and starve."

.yCOOgIC

370 NOBSB TALES.

So the brothers went out into the world to try their
luck, aod each took his own way ; bat when the yoangest
had gone a while, the cat said, —

"Now yon shall have a good turn, because yon
wouldn't let me stay behind in the old cottage and
statre. Now, I'm off to the wood to lay hold of a
fine fat head of game, and then yon mnst go up to the
king's palace that you see yonder, and say yon are come
with a little present for the king ; and when he asks
who sends it, you must say, ' Why, who should it be
from but Lord Peter.' "

Well! Peter hadn't waited long before back came
the cat with a rein-deer from the wood ; she had jumped
up on the rein-deer's head, between his horns, and said,
"If yon don't go straight to the king's palace I'll claw
your eyes out."

So the rein deer had to go whether he liked it or no.

And when Peter got to the palace he went into the
kitchen with the deer, and said, — "Here I'm come
with a little present for &.& king, if he won't despise it."

Then Uie King went out into tlie kitchen, and when
he saw the fine plump rein-deer, he was very glad.

" But, my dear friend," he said, " who in the world
is it that sends me such a fine gift ?"

" Oh ! " said Peter, " who should send it but Lord
Peter."

.yCOOgIC

LOBD PETER. 371

" Lord Peter ! Lord Peter J" Baid the King. " Pray
tell me where he liTes ;" for he thought it a Bbame not to
kuow BO great a man. But that was just what the lad
wouldn't tell him; fae daren't do it, he eaid, because
his master had forbidden him.

So the Xing gave him a good bit of money to
drink hia health, and bade him be sure and eay all kind
of pretty thioge, and many thanks for the present to his
master when he got home.

Next day the Cat went again into the wood, and
jumped up on a red deer's head, and sat between his
horns, and forced him to go to the palace. Then Peter
went again into the kitchen, and said he was oome with
a little present for the King, if he would be pleased to
take it And the King was still more glad to get the
red deer than he had been to get the rein-deer, and
asked again who it was that sent so fine a present.

" Why, it's Lord Peter, of course," aaid the lad; but
when the King wanted to know where Lord Peter lived,
he got the suae answer as the day before ; and this day,
t«o, he gave Peter a good Inmp of money to drink his
health with.

The third day the Cat came with an elk. And so
when Peter got into the palace-kitchen, and said he had
a little present for the King, if he'd be pleased to take
it, the King c-ame out at once into the kitchen ; and

U.g.VK.yC00glc

372 N0B6B TALES.

wheD he saw the grand big elk, he was so glad be
scarce knew which leg to stand on ; and this day, too,
he gave Peter many many more dolhirs — at least a hun-
dred. He wished now, once for all, to know where this
Lord Peter lived, and asked and asked about this thing
and that, but the lad said he daren't say, for his mas-
ter's sake, who had strictly forbidden him to tell.

" Well, then," said the King, " beg Lord Peter to
come and see me."

Yes, the lad would take that message ; but when
Peter got out into the yard agfun, and met the Cat, he
said, —

" A pretty scrape you've got me into now, for here's
the King, who wants me to come and see him, and yon
know I've nothing to go in but these rags I stand and
walk in."

"Oh, don't be ^raid about that," aaxi the Cat;
" in three days you shall have coach and hoisea, and
fine clothes, so fine that the gold falls from them, and
then you may go and see the king very well. But
mind, whatever you see in the king's palace, you must
say you have far finer and grander things of yoor own.
Don't forget that."

No, no, Peter would bear that in mind, never fear.

So when three days were over, the Cat came with
a coach and horses, and clothes, and all that Peter

U.g.VK.yC00glc

LORD PETEB. 373

wimted, ftnd altogether it was as grand as anything yon
ever set eyes on ; so off he set, and the Cat ran alongside
the coach. The King met him well and graciously ;
but whatever the King offered him, and whatever he
showed him, Peter said, 'twas all very well, but he had
far finer and better things in his own house. The King
seemed not quite to believe this, but Peter stuck to
what he said, and at last the King got ao angry, be
couldn't bear it any longer.

"Now I'll go home with you," hesfud, "and see if it
be true what you've been telling me, that you have far
finer and better things of your own. Bat if you've
been telling a pack of lies, Heaven help you, that's all
I say."

" Now, you've got me into a fine scrape," said
Peter to the Cat, "for here's the King coming home
with me ; but my home, that's not so easy to find, I
think."

" Oh ! never mind," said the Cat ; " only do you
drive after me as I run before."

So off they set ; first Peter, who drove after his
Cat, and then the King and all his court

But when they bad driven a good bit, tbey came to
a great flock of fine sheep, that had wool so long it
almost touched the ground.

"If you'll only say," said the Cat to the Shepherd,

■U.g.VK.yC00glc

374 N0H8B TALES.

" this flock of sheep belongs to Lord Peter, when the
King asks yon, I'll give yon this silTer spooii," whid
she had taken with her from the King's palace.

Tes I he was willing enough to do that. So ^len
the king came np, be said to the lad who watched the
sheep, —

" Well, I never saw so large and fine a flo«± of
slieep in my life 1 Whose is it ? my little lad."

" Why," said the lad, " whose should it be hot
Lord Peter's."

A little while after they came to a great, great herd
of fine brindled kine, who were all so sleek the sun shone
from them.

" If you '11 only say, " s«d the Cat to the neat-
herd, " this herd is Lord Peter's, when the king asks
yoD, I'll give you this silver ladle ;" and the kdle loo
she had taken from the king's palace.

" Yes ! with all my heart," said the neat-henL

So when the king came up, he was quite amazed at
the fine fat herd, for such a herd be bad never seen
before, and so he asked the neat-herd who owned those
brindled kine.

" Why I who should own them bat Lord Peter,"
said the neat-herd.

So they went on a little further, and came to a
great, great drove of h(»tie8, the finest yon ever saw.

.yCOOgIC

LORD PETER. 376

six of each colour, bay, and black, and brown, and

"If you'll only say thie drove of horses is Lord
Peter's wheo the king asks you," said the Cat, " I'll
give you tbie silver Htoop ;" and the stoop too she had
taken from the palace.

Yes I the lad was willing enough ; and so when
the king came up, he was quite amazed at the grand
drore of houses, for the matches of such horses he had
never yet set eyes on, he said.

So he asked the lad who watched them, whose all
these blacks, and bays, and browns, and cheenuts were ?

" Whose should they be," said the lad, " but Lord
Peter's."

So when they bad gone a good bit farther, they
came to a castle ; first there was a gate of tin, and next
there was a gate of silver, and next a gate of gold.
The castle itself was of silver, and so dazzling white,
that it quite hurt one's eyes to look at in the sunbeams
which fell on it just as they reached it.

So they went into it, and the Cat told Peter to say
this was his house. As for the castle inside, it was far
finer than it looked outside, for everything was pure
gold, — chairs, and tables, and benches, and all. And
when the king had gone all over it, and seen every-
thing high and low, he got quite shameful and downcast.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

376 NORSE TALES.

" Yes," he said at last ; " Lord Peter has everything
far finer than I have, there's no gamsaying that," and
BO he wanted to he off home again.

Bat Peter begged him to et&j to supper, and the
king stayed, but he was sour and surly the whole time.

So as they sat at supper, back came the TroQ who
owned the castle, and gave such a great knock at the
door.

" Who's this bating by hbat and deinking mt
MEAD Li£X SWINE IN HERE," roared out the Troll

As soon ae the Cat heard that, she ran down to the
gate.

" Stop a bit," she said, " and I'll tell yon how the
fanner sets to work to get in his winter rye."

And 80 she told him such a long atory about the
winter rye.

" First of all, you see, he ploogbs his field, and dteo
he dungs it, and then he ploughs it again, and then he
harrows it ; " and so ^e went on till the sun rose.

" Oh, do look behind you, and there yon'U see such
a lovely lady," said the Cat to the Troll,

So the Troll turned rountl, and, of course, as soon as
he saw the sun he burst.

" Now all this is yours," said the Cat to Lord Peter.
" Now, you must cat off my head ; that's all I ask for
what I have done for yon."

.yCOOgIC

LOBD PETER. 377

"Nay, nay," said Lord Peter, " I'll never do any
such thing, tliat's flat."

" If you don't," said the Cat, " see if I don't claw
your eyes out."

Well I 60 Lord Petei bad to do it, though it was
Bore against his will. He cut off the Cat's head, but there
and then she became the loveliest Princess you ever set
>!yes on, and Lord Peter fell in love with her at once.

" Yes ! all this greatneBs was mine first," said the
Princess, " but a Troll bewitched me to be a Cat in
your father's and mother's cottage. Now you may do
as you please, whether you take me as your queen or
not, for you are now king over all this reahn."

Well, well ; there was little doubt Lord Pet«r would
be wilUug enough to have her as his queen, and so
there was a wedding that Usted eight whole days, and
a feast beddes ; and after it was over, I stayed no
longer with Lord Peter and his lovely queen, and so I
ca'nt say anything more about them.

.yCOOgIC

THE SEVEN FOALS.

/"VNCE on a time there was a poor ooaple vbo lired

in a wretched hut, far, &r sway in the wood. How
they lived I can't tell, bnt I'm enre it was from hand
to month, and hard work even then ; but they had
three boob, and the youngest of diem was Boota, of
couiBe, for he did UtUe else thui lie tiiere and joke
about in the ashes.

So one day the eldest lad said be would go ont to
earn his bread, and he soon got leave, and wandered
oat into the world. There he waiked and walked the
wliolo day, and when evening drew in, he came to a
king's palace, and there stood ihe king ont on the steps,
and asked whither he was boimd.

" Oh, I'm going about, looking aiiter a place," said
the lad.

"Will you serve me?" asked the king, "and watch
my seven foals. If you can watch them one whole day,
and tell me at night what they eat and what they drink,
you shall have the Princess to wife, and half my king-
dom; but if you can't, I'll cat three red stripes oat of
your hack. Do you hem ?"

.yCOOgIC

THE SEVEN FOALS. 379

Yes! that was aDeaay task, the lad thought, he'ddo
that fast enough, never fear.

So next morning, aa soon as the first peep of dawn
came, the king's coachman let out the seven foals.
Away they went, and the lad after them. Yon may fancy
bow they tore over hill and dale, through bnsh and bog.
When the lad had run bo a long time, he began to get
weary, and when he had held ob a while longer, he had
more than enough of his watching, and just there, he
came to a cleft in a rock, where an old hag eat and
span with a distaff. As soon as she saw the lad who
was running after the foals till the sweat ran down his
brow, this old hag bawled out, —

" Come bitJaer, come hither, my pretty son, and let
me comb yoiu* biur."

Yes 1 ihe lad was willing enough ; so he sat down
in the cleft of the rock with the old hag, and laid his
head on her lap, and she combed his hair all day
whilst he lay there, and stretched his lazy bones.

So, when evening drew on, the lad wanted to go
away.

" I may just as well toddle straight home now,"
said he, " for it's no use my going back to the palace."

" Stop a bit till it's dark," said the old hag, " and
then the King's foals will pass by here again, and then
you can run home with them, and then no one will

.yCOOgIC

380 NOBSB TALES.

know that you have liun here all da; loDg, instead of
watching the foals."

So, when they came, ebe gave the lad a flask of
water and a clod of turf. Those he was to show to
the King, and say that was what his seven foals ate
and diank.

" Have you watched true and well the whole day,
now ?" asked the King, when the lad came before him
in the evening.

" Yes, I should think so," said the lad.

" Then yon can tell me what my seven fools eat
and drink," said the King.

" Yes !" and so the lad palled out the flask of water
and the clod of tnrf, which the old hag had given him.

" Here yon see their meat, and here you see t^eir
drink," said the lad.

But then the king saw plain enough how he had
watched, and he got so wroth, he ordered his men to
chase him away home on the spot ; but first they were
to cut three red stripes out of his back, and rub salt
into them. So when the lad got home agfun, you may
fancy what a temper he was in. He'd gone out once
to get a place, be said, but he'd never do so again.

Next day the second bod said be would go out
iuto the world to try his Inck. His father and mother
said " No," and bade him look at his brother's back ;

.yCOOgIC

THE SEVEN FOALS. 381

but the lad wouldn't give in ; he held to his own, and
at laat he got leave to go, and set off. So when he
had walked the whole day, he, too, came to the king's
palace. There stood the King out on the stepe, and
asked whither he was bound? and when the lad aud
he was looking about for a place, the King said he
might have a place there, and watch his eeven foals.
But the king laid down the same punishment, and the
same reward, as he had settled for his brother. Well,
the lad was willing enongh ; he took the place at ouce
with the King, for be thought he'd soon watch the
foals, and tell the king what they ate and dnmk.

So, in the gray of the morning, the coachman let
out the seven foals, and off they went again over hill
and dale, and the lad after them. But the same thing
happened to him ae had befallen his brother. When
be had run after the foals a long long time, till he was
both warm and weary, he passed by the cleft in a rock,
where an old bag sat and spun with a distaff, and she
bawled out to the lad, —

" Come hither, come hither, my pretty son, and let
me comb your hair."

That the lad thought a good offer, so be let the
foals run on their way, and sat down in the cleft with
the old hag. There he sat, and there he lay, taking
his ease, and stretching his lazy bones ihe whole day.

.yCOOgIC

382 NOHSK TALB8.

Whea the foab came back at nigfatiall, he too got
a flask of water and clod of tiuf &om the old hag to
show to the king. But when the king asked the lad, —

" Can yon tell me now, what my seven foals eat and
drink ?" and the lad pulled out the flask and the clod,
and said, —

'* Here you aee their meat, and here yon see their
drink."

Then the king got wroth again, and ordered them
to cut three red stripes out of the lad's back, and mb salt
in, and chase him home that very minute. And so
when the lad got home, he also told how he had &red,
and Bud, ho had gone out once to get a place, but he'd
never do so any more.

The third day Boots wanted to set out ; he had a
great mind to try and vratch the seven foals, be sud.
The others laughed at him, and made game of him,
saying, —

" When we fared so ill, you '11 do it better — a fine
joke ; you look like it, — you, who have never done
anything but lie there and poke about in the ashes."

" YesI" sfud Boots, " I don't see why I shouldn't
go, for I've got it into my head, and can't get it out
i^ain."

• And so, in spite of all the jeers of the others and ihe
prayers of the old people, there was no help for it, and
Boots set out.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE BEVEN FOALS. 383

So after he had walked the whole day, he too came
at dask to the king's palace. There stood the king ont
on the steps, and asked whither he was bound.

" Oh," said Boots, " I'm going about seeing if I
can hear of a place."

" Whence do yon come then ?" said the King, for he
wanted to know a little more about them before he took
any one into his aervice.

So Boots sfud whence he came, and how he was
brotlier to those two who had watched the king's seven
foals, and ended by asking if he might try to watch
them next day,

" Oh, stuff I " said the King, for he got quite cross
if he even thought of them ; *' if yon 're brother to those
two, you're not worth much, I'll be bound. I'v« had
enough of such scamps."

" Well," said Boote ; " but since I 've come so far,
I may just as well get leave to try, I too,"

" Oh, very well ; with all my heart," said the King,
" if you toill have your back flayed, you're quite wel-
come."

" I'd much rather have the Princess," said Boots.

So next morning, at gray of dawn, the coachman
let out the seven foals again, and away they went over
hill and dale, through bush and bog, and Boota behind
them. And so, when he too had run a long while, he

.yCOOgIC

384 HOBSE TAI.es.

came to the cleft in the rock, where the old hag mt,
spurning at her distaff. So she bawled out to Boots, —

" Come hither, come hither, my pretty son, and
let me comb your hair."

" Don't yoQ wish you may catch me," scud Boots.
" Don't you wish you may catch me," aa he ran along,
leaping and jomping, and holding on by one of tlie
foal's tails. And when he bad got well past the deft
in the rock, the youngest foal a^d, —

" Jump up on my back, my lad, for we've a long
way before us still."

So Boots jumped up on his back.

So they went on, and on, a long long way.

" Do you see anything now?" eud the FoaL

" No," said Boots.

So they went on a good bit farther.

" Do you see anything now ? " asked the Foal.

" Ob no," said the lad.

So when they bad gone a great, great way far-
ther— I'm sure I can't tell how iar, — the Foal asked
agfun, —

" Do you Bee anything now ? "

" Yes," said Boots ; " now I see something that
looks white — just like a tall, big birch trunk."

" Tes," said the Foal; "we're going into that
trunk."

.yCOOgIC

THE 8BVEK F0AL8. 385

So wheu they got to the trunk, the eldest foal
took and pushed it on one side, and then they eaw a
door where it had stood, and iuBide the door was a little
room, and in the room there was scarce anything
but a little fire-place and one or two benches ; but
behind the door hung a great rusty sword and a little
pitcher.

*' Can you brandish the sword?" said the Foals;
" try."

So BootB tried, bat he couldn't ; then they made
him take a pull at the pitcher ; first once, then twice,
and then thrice, and then he could wield it like any-
thing.

" Yes," said the Foals, " now you may take the
sword with you, and with it you must cut off all our
seven heads on your wedding-day, and then we'll be
princes again as we were before. For we are brothers
of that Princess whom you are to have when yon can
tell the king what we eat and drink ; but an ugly Troll
has thrown this shape over ns. Now mind, when yon
have hewn off our heads, to take care to lay each head
at the tail of the trunk which it belonged to before, and
then the spell will have no more power over us."

Yes! Boots promised all that, and then on they
went.

.yCOOgIC

386 NOBSX TALES.

And when they had travelled a long long way, t^
Foal asked, —

" Do yon Bee anjfthing?"

" No," said Boots.

So they travelled a good bit stilL

" And now ?" asked the FoaL

" No, I see nothing," Siud Boote.

So they travelled many many miles agwn, over hilt
and dale,

" Now then," said the Foal, " do you see anything
now ?"

" Yes," said Boots, " now I see something like a
Wne stripe, far, far away,"

" Yes," said the Foal, " that's a river we've got to
cross."

Over the river was a long, grand bridge ; and when
they had got over to the other side, they travelled on
a long, long way. At last the Foal asked again, —

" If Boots didn't see anything?"

" Yes, this time he saw something that looked black
far, far away, just as though it were a church steeple."

" Yes," said the Foal, " that's where we're going
to turn in."

So when the foals got into the churchyard, they
I)ecame men again, and looked like Princes, with such
fine clothes that it glistened from them ; and so thej

U.g.VK'.yC00glc

THE BETEN FOALS. 387

went into the church, and toot the bread and wine
from the priest who stood at the altar. And Boots
he went in too ; but when the priest had laid his hands
on the PriaceB, and given them the blessing, they went
out of the church agiun, and Boots went out too ;
but he took with him a flask of wine and a wafer.
And as soon as ever the seven Princes came out into
the churchyard, they were turned into foals again, and
so Boots got up on the back of the youngest, and so
they all went back the same way that they had come,
only they went much, much faster. First they crossed
the btidge, next they passed the trunk, and then they
passed the old hag, who sat in the cleft and span, and
they went by her so fast, that Boots couldn't hear what
the old hag screeched after him ; but he heard so much
aa to know she was in an awful rage.

It was almost dark when they got hack to the
palaue, and the King himself stood out on the steps and
waited for them.

" Have you watched well and tnie the whole day ? "
said he to Boots.

" I've done my best," answered Boots.

" Then you can tell me what my seven foals eat
and drink," said the King.

Then Boots pulled out the flask of wine and the
wafer, and showed them to the king.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

388 NOBSE TALES.

" Here you aee their meat, and here yon see Haa
drink," said he.

" Yes," said the King, " you have watched true and
well, and you shall have the Princesa and half the \aag-
dotn."

So they made ready the wedding-feast, and the king
said it should be anch a grand one, it ahould be the talk
far and near.

But when they sat down to the bridal-feast, the
bridegroom got up and went down to the stable, for be
said he had forgotten something, and must go to fetch it.
And when be got down there, he did as the Foak
had 8fud, and hewed their heads oG all seven, the eldest
first, and the others after him ; and at the same time be
took care to lay each head at the tful of the foal to which
it belonged ; and as he did this, lo ! they all became
Princes agiun.

So when he went into the bridal hall with the
seven princes, the King was bo glad he both kissed Boots
and patted Mm on the back, and his bride was still more
glad of him than she had been before.

" Half the kingdom you have got already," said
the King, " and the oUier half you shall have after my
death ; for my sons can easily get themselves lands and
wealth, now they are princes again."

And so, like enough, there was mirth and ftm at

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE SETSK K>ALS. 389

that wedding. I was there too ; but there was -no one
to care for poor me ; and bo I got nothing but a bit of
bread and butter, and I lud it down on the stove, and
the bread was burnt and the butter ran, and so I didn't
get even the smallest cmmb. Wasn't that a great
shame?

.yCOOgIC

THE WIDOW'S SON.

/^NCE on a time there was a poor, poor widow, who
had an only eon. She dragged on with the boy
Un he had been confirmed, and then she said she
couldn't feed him any longer, he moat just go out and
earn his own bread. So the lad wandered out into the
world, and when he had walked a day or so, a strange
man met him.

" Whither away? " asked the man.

" Oh, I 'm going out into the world to try and get
a place," eiud the lad.

" Will you come and eerre me?" sfud tlie nan.

" Oh yes ; just as soon you as any one else," said
the lad.

" Well, youll have a good place with me," said the
man ; " for you'll only hare to keep me company, and
do nothing at all else beside."

So the lad stopped with him, and lived on the
fat of the land, both in meat and drink, and had tittle
or nothing to do ; but he never saw a living soul in
that man's house.

So one day the man said, —

.yCOOgIC

THE widow's SOM. 301

" Kow, I'm going off for eigtit days, and tJiat time
you'll have to spend here all alone ; but you must not
go into any one of these four roomB heie. If you do,
I'll take youi life when I come back."

" No," Baid the lad, — he'd be sure not to do tliat.
But when the man had been gone three or four days,
the lad couldn't bear it any longer, but went into the
first room, and when he got inside he looked round,
but he saw nothing but a shelf over the door where a
bramhle-bueh rod lay.

Well, indeed 1 thought the lad ; a pretty thing to
forbid my seeing this.

So when the eight days were out, the man came
home, and the first thing he said was, —

" You haven't been into any of tfa^e rooms, of
course."

"No, no; that I haven't," s^d the lad.

"I'll soon see that," said the man, and went at
once into tlie room where the lad had been.

" Nay, but you have been in here," said he ; " and
now you shall lose your life."

Then the lad begged and prayed so hard that he
got off with his life, hut the man gave him a good
thrashing. And when it was over, they were as good
friends as ever.

SoiDf time after the man set off again, and said he

U.g.VK.yC00glc

392 N0B3E TALES.

should be away fourteen days ; but before he went he
forbade the lad to go into an; of the rooms he had not
been in before ; as for that he had been in, he uigiit
go into that, and welcome. Well, it was Hie same story
over again, except that the lad stood out eight days be-
fore be went in. In this room, too, he saw nothing but
a shelf over the door, and a big stone, and a pitt^er of
water on it Well, after all, there's not much to be
afrud of my seeing here, thought the lad.

But when the man came back, he asked if be had
been into any of the rooms. No, the lad hadn't done
aujTthtng of the kind.

" Well, well; I'll soon see that," said the man;
and when he saw that the lad had been in them after
all, he said, —

" Ah 1 now I 'II spare you no longer ; now you must
lose your life."

But the lad begged and prayed for himself again,
ajid BO this time too he got off with stripes ; thou^ be
got as many as his sktn could carry. But when he got
sound and well again, he led just as easy a life aa ever,
and he and the man were just as good friends.

So a while aiter the man was to take aootfaer
journey, and now he scud he should be away throe
weeks, and he forbade the lad anew to go into the third
room, for if he went in there he might just make up

.yCOOgIC

THE WIDOW S SON. 398

his mind at once to lose hifl life. Then after fourteen
days the lad couldn't bear it, but crept into the room,
but he saw nothing at all in there but a trap door on
the floor ; and when he lifted it up and looked down,
there stood a great copper cauldron which bubbled and
boiled away down there ; but he saw no fire under it."

" Well, I should juBt like to know if it's hot," thought
the lad, and stuck his finger down into the broth, and
when he pulled it out again, lo I it was gilded all
over. So -the lad scraped and scrubbed it, but the
gilding wouldn't go ofi', bo he bound a piece of rag
round it ; and when the man came back and asked
what was the matter with his finger, the lad said he'd
given it such a bad cut. But the man tore off the rag,
and then he soon saw what was the matter with the
finger. First he wanted to kill the lad outright, but
when he wept and begged, he only gave him euch a
thrashing that he had to keep his bed three days. After
that the man took down a pot from the wall, and rubbed
him over with some stuff out of it, and so the lad was
sound and fresh as ever.

So after a while the man started off again, and this
time he was to be away a month. But before he went,
he said to the lad, if he went into the fourth room he
might give up all hope of saving his life.

Well, the lad stood out for two or three weeks.

.yCOOgIC

394 KOBSE TALEB.

but tben he couldn't hold out any longer; he must and
would go into that room, aod so in he stole. There
stood a great black horse tied up in a stall by himself,
with a manger of red-hot coals at htB head, and a truss
of hay at his tail. Then the lad thought this all
wrong, so he changed them about, and put the hay at
his head. Then said the Horse, —

" Since you are so good at heart as to let me have
some food, I'll set you free, that I will For if the
TroU comes back and Snds you here, he'll kill yon out-
right. But now you must go up to the room which
lies just oyer this, and take a coat of mail out of those
that hang there ; and mind, whatever you do, don't
take any of the bright ones, but the most rusty of all
you see, that's the one to take ; and sword and saddle
you must choose for yourself just in the same way."

So the lad did all that ; but it was a heavy load for
him to carry them all down at once.

When he came back, the Horse told him to pull off
his clothes and get into the cauldron which stood aod
boiled in the other room, and bathe himself there. " If
I do," thought the lad, " I shall look an awfiil fiight;"
but for all that, he did as he was told. So when he had
taken his bath, he became so handsome and sleek, and as
red and white as milk and bloody and much f
than he had been before.

.yCOOgIC

THE WIMVe BON. 396

" Do you feel any change?" asked the Horse.

" Yes," said the lad.

" Try to lift me, then," said the Horee.

Oh yes I he wuld do that, and as for the sword, he
brandished it like a feather.

" Now saddle me," awd the Horse, " and put on the
coat of Duul, and then take the bramble-bnsfa rod, and
the stone, and the pitcher of water, and the pot of oint-
ment, and then we'll be off as fast as we can."

So when the lad had got on the horse, off they
went at such a rate, he couldn't at all tell how ihej
went But when he had ridden awhile, the Hoise said,

" I think I hear a noise ; look round I can you see
anytiiing?"

" Tes ; there are evei so many coming after us, at
least a score," said the lad.

"Aye, aye, that's the Troll coming," said the Horse ;
" now he's after ua with his pack."

So they rode on a while, untU those who followed
were close behind them.

" Now throw your bramble-bush rod behind you,
over your shoulder," said the Horse ; " but mind you
throw it a good way off my back."

So the lad did that, and all at once a close, thick
bramble-wood grew up behind them. So the lad rode
on a long, long time, while the Troll and his crew had

U.g.VK.yC00glc

396 NORSE TALES.

to go home to fetch somethiDg to hew their way througb
the wood. But at last, the Horse said agtun,

" Look behind you ! can you see anything now?"

" Yea, ever so many," said Uie lad, " as many as
would fill a large church."

'* Aye, aye, that's the Troll and hia crew," eaJd the
Horae ; "now he's got more to back him; bat bow
throw down the stone, and mind you throw it far behind
me."

And as soon as the lad did what the horae said, up
rose a great black hill of rock behind him. So the
Troll had to be off home to fetch something to mine
hie way through the rock ; and while the Troll did that,
the lad rode a good bit further on. But still the hone
begged him to look behind him, and then be saw a
troop like a whole army behind him, and they listened
in the sunbeams.

" Aye, aye," said the Horse, " that's the Troll, and
now he 'e got hia whole band with him, so throw the
pitcher of water behind you, but mind yoo don't spill
any of it upon me."

So the lad did that ; but in spite of all the fuuns he
took, he still spilt one drop on the horse's flank. So it
became a great deep lake ; and because of that one drop,
the horse found himself far out in it, but still he swam
safe to land. But when the TroUs came to the lake,

.yCOOgIC

THE WIDOW B SON. 397

they lay down to drink it dry ; and so they swilled and
awiUed till they buret

"Now we're rid of them," said the Horse-
So when they had gone a long, long while, they
came to a green patch in a wood.

" Now, strip off all your arms," said the horse,
" and only put on your ragged clothes, and take the
ftaddle off me, and let me loose, and hang all my
clothing and your arms up innde that great hollow lime-
tree yonder. Then make yourself a wig of fir-moss, and
go up to the king's palace, which lies close here, and
ask for a place. Whenever you need me, only come
here and shake the bridle, and I '11 come to you."

Yes I the lad did all his horse told him, and as soon
as ever he put on the wig of moss he became bo ugly,
and pale, and miserable to look at, no one would have
known him again. Then he went up to the kmg's
palace, and begged first for leave to be in the kitchen,
and bring in wood and water for the cook, but then
the kitchen-maid asked him —

" Why do you wear that ugly wig? Off with it.
I won't have such a fright in here."

" No, I can't do that," said the lad ; " for I 'm not
quite right in my head."

"Bo you think then I'll have you in here about
the food," cried the cook. "Away with you to the

U.g.VK.yC00glc

398 KOBSB TALKS.

coacliman ; you 're beet fit to go and clean the
stable."

But when the coachman begged him to take his
wig off, he got the same answer, and he wouldn't have
him either.

" You'd beet go down to the gardener," said he ;
" you're best fit to go about and dig in the garden."

So he got leave to be with the gardener, bat none
of the other servants would sleep with him, and so he
had to sleep by himself ander the steps of the smnmer-
house. It stood upon beams, and had a high staircase.
Under that he got some turf for his bed, and there he
lay a& well as be could.

So, when he had been some time at the palace, it
happened one morning, just as the sun rose, that the lad
had taken off his wig, and stood and washed himself,
and then he was so handsome, it was a joy to look at him.

So the Princess saw from her window the loveh
gardener's boy, and thought she had never seen any one
so handsome. Then she asked the gardener why he lay
out there under the steps.

" Oh," said the gardener, " none of his fellow-ser-
vants will sleep with him ; that's why."

" liCt him come up to-night, and lie at the door
inside my bed-room, and then they'll not refuse to sleep
with him any more," said the Princess.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

THE WIDOW 8 SON. 399

So the gardener told that to the lad.

" Do you thiok lit do any such thing?" aaid the
lad. " Why, they'd say next there was something be-
tv7een me and the Princess."

" Yes," said the gardener, " you've good reaaon to
fear any such thing, you who are so handsome."

"Weil, well," said the lad, "since it's her will, I
snppoBe I Hjust go."

So, when he was to go up the steps in theevening,
he tramped and stamped so on the way, that they had
to beg him to tread softly lest the King should come to
know it. So he came into the Princess' bed-room, lay
down, and began to snore at once. Then the Piincess
s^d to her maid, —

" Go gently, and just pull his wig off;" and she
went ap to him.

But just as she was going to whisk it off, be canght
hold of it with both hands, and said she should never
have it After that he lay down again, and began to
saore. Then the Priucesa gave her maid a wink, and
this time she wiiisked off the wig ; and there lay the
lad so lovely, and white and red, just as the Princess
had seen him in the morning sun.

After that the lad slept every night in the Princess'
bed-room.

But it wasn't long before the King came to bear

U.g.VK.yC00glc

400 NOBSE TALES.

how the gardeDer's l&d slept ever; night in the Fiin-
cese' bed-room ; and be got bo wroth he ahnost took
the lad's life. He didn't do that, howeTer, hut thiew
him into the prison tower ; and as for his own dau^ter,
he shut her up in her own room, whence she ncTer got
leave to stir day or night. All that she begged, and
all that she prayed, for the lad and herself, was no good.
The King was only more wroth tlian ever.

Some time after came a war and uproar in the
laud, and the king had to take up arms against another
king who wished to take the kingdom fix}m him. So
when the lad heard that, he begged the gaoler to go to
the king and ask for a coat of mail and a sword, and
for leave to go to the war. All the rest langhed when
the gaoler told fais errand, and begged the king to let
him have an old worn-out suit, that they might have
the fiin of seeing such a wretch in battle. So he got
that, and an old broken-down hack besides, which went
upon three lege, and dragged the fourth after it.

Then they went out to meet the foe ; but tliey
hadn't got far from the palace before the lad got stuck
fast in a bog with his hack. There he sat and dug hit
spurs in, and cried, " Gee up, gee up!" to his hack.
And all the rest liad their fun out of tiiis, and laughed,
and made game of the lad ae they rode past him. But
they were scarcely gone, before he ran to the limc-

.yCOOglC

THE widow's son. 401

tree, threw on hie coat of mail, and shook the bridle,
aod there came the horse in a trice, and smd, —

" Do now your best, and I'll do mine."

But when the lad came up the battle bad begun,
and the king was in a sad pinuh ; but no sooner had
the lad rushed into the thick of it than the foe was
beaten back, and put to flight. The king and his men
wondered and wondered who it could be who had come
to help them, but none of them got so near him as to
be able to talk to him, and as soon as the Sgbt was
over he was gone. When they went back, there sat
the lad still in the bog, and dug his spurs into his
three-legged back, and they all laughed again.

" No ! only just look," they said ; " there the fool
sits still."

The next day when they went out to battle, they saw
the lad sitting there still, bo they laughed again, and made
game of him ; but as soon as ever they had ridden by, the
lad ran again to the lime-tree, and all happened as on the
first day. Every one wondered what strange champion it
could be that bad helped them, but no one got so near
him as to say a word to him ; and no one guessed it
could be the lad ; that's easy to understand.

So when they went home at night, and saw the
lad still sitting there on his hack, they burst out
laughing at him ag^n, and one of them shot an arrow
s2

U.g.VK.yC00glc

402 MORBE TALES.

at him uiij hit him in the leg. So he began to shriek
and to bewail; 'twas enongh to br^ one's he«rt;
and BO the king threw his pocket-handkerchief to him
to bind his wound.

When they went out to battle the third day, lbs
lad still eat there.

" Gee up ! gee up I " he said to his hack.

" Nay, nay," swd the king's men ; " if he won't
stick there till he 'b starved to deatL"

And then they rode on, and laughed at him till
they were fit to fall from their horses. When they
were gone, he ran again to the lime, and came up to
the battle just in the very nick of time. This day he
slew the enemy's king, and then the war was over at
once.

When the battle was over, the king caught sight
of his handkerchief, which the strange warrior had
bound round his leg, and bo it waan't hard to find him
out. So thoy took him with great joy between them
to the palace, and the Princess, who saw him from her
window, got so glad, no one con believe it.

" Here comes my own true love," she said.

Then he took the pot of ointment and rubbed him-
self on the leg, and after that he rubbed f^l the wounded,
and so they all got well again io a moment.

So he got the Princess to wife ; hut when he went

.yCOOgIC

THE WIBOW'S BON. 403

down into the stable where his horse was on the day
the wedding was to be, there it stood so dnll and heary,
and hung its ears down, and wouldn't eat its com. So
when the young king — for he was now a king, and had
got half the kingdom — spoke to him, and asked what
ailed him, the Horse said, —

*' Now I have helped you on, and now I won't live
any longer. So just take the sword, and cut my head
off."

" No, I'll do nothing of the kind," said the young
King ; " but yon shall have all you want, and rest all
your life."

" Well," said the Horse, " if you don't do as I tell
you, see if I don't take your life somehow."

So the king had to do what he asked ; but when
he swung the sword and was to cut his head off, he
was so sorry he turned away bis face, for he would not
see the stroke tall. But as soon as ever he had cut off
the head, there stood the loveliest Prince on the spot
where the horse had stood.

" Why, where in &U the world did you come irom ?"
asked the King.

" It was I who was a horse," smd the Prince ; " for
I was king of that land whose king you slew yesterday.
He it was who threw this Troll's shape over me, and
sold me to the TroU. But now he is slain I get my

U.g.VK.yC00glc

404 SOBSE TALES.

owD again, and you and I will be neighbour Hogs, Inrt
war we will never make on one another."

And they dida't either; for they were friende ae
long as they Hved, and each paid the other very many
Tisitfl.

.yCOOgIC

BUSHY BRIDE.

^KCE on a time there was a widower, who had a
SOD and a daughter by his first marriage. Both
were good children, and loved each other dearly. Some
time after the man married a widow, who bad a daugh-
ter by her first husband, and uho was both ugly and
bad, like her mother. So from the day the new wife
came into the house there was no peace for her step-
children in any comer ; and at last the lad thought
he'd best go out into the world, and try to earn his
own bread. And when he had wandered a while he
came to a king's palace, and got a place under the
coachman, and quick and willing he was, and the horses
he looked after were so sleek and clean that their coats
shone again.

But the sister who stayed at home was treated
worse than bad; both her stepmother and stepsister
were always at her, and wherever she went, and
whatever she did, they scolded and snarled so, the poor
lassii^ hadn't an hour's peace. All the bard work she
was forced to do, and early and late she got nothing but
bad words, and little food besides.

.yCOOgIC

So oue da; they had Bent her to the bom to fetch
water ; and what do 70a think ? up popped an ngly, agly
head oat of the pool, and said, —

*' Wash me, yoa lassie."

" Yes, with all my heart I'll wash yon," said the
lassie.

So she began to wash and scrub the ugly head ;
but trnth to say, she Uiought it nasty work.

Well, as soon as she had done washing it, up popped
another head out of the pool, and this was nglier
BtiU.

" Brush me, you lassie," said the head.

" Yes, with all my heart I'll brush you."

And with that she took in band the matted locks,
and yon may Eancy she hadn't very pleasant work with
them.

But when she had got over that, if a third head
didn't pop up out of the pool, uid this was for more
ugly and loathsome than both the others put together.

" Kiss me, you lassie I"

" Yes, I'll kiss you," said the lassie, and she did it
too, though she thought it the worst work she had ever
had to do in her life.

Then the beads began to chatter together, and each
asked what they should do for the lasede who was so
kind and gentie.

.yCOOgIC

BUSHY BBIDB. 407

" That she be the prettiest laseie in the woild, and
as ffur as the bright day," e^d the first bead.

" That gold shall drop from her h^, every time she
brushes it," s^d the second head.

"That gold shaU fell from her mouth every IJme
she speaks," said the third head.

So when the lassie came home looking so lovely,
and beaming as the bright day itself; her stepmother
and her stepsister got more and more cross, and they
got worse still when she began to talk, and they saw
how golden guineas fell from her month. As for the
stepmother, she got so mad with rage, she chased the
lassie into the pigsty. That was the right place for
all her gold stufT, but as for coming into the house, she
wouldn't hear of it.

Well, it wasn't long before the stepmother wished
her own daughter to go to the bum to fetch water. So
when she came to the water's edge with her backets, up
popped the first head.

" Wash me, you laeaie," it said.

" The Deil wash you," said the stepdaughter.

So the second head popped up.

" Brush me, yon lassie," it said.

" The Deil brush you," sdd the stepdaughter.

So down it went ta the bottom, and the third head
popped up.

.yCOOgIC

408 NORSE TALES.

" KiBS me, you lassie," said the head.

" The Deil kiss you, you pig's-snout," said the giiL

Then the heads chattered together agfun, and asked
what they should do to the girl who was so spiteful and
crofiG-gruned ; and they all agreed she should have a
noae four ells long, and a snout three ells long, and a
pine bush right in the midst of her forehead, and every
time she spoke, ashes were to fell oat of her mouth.

So when she got home with her buckets, she bawled
out to her mother —

" Open the door."

"Open it yourself, my darling child," said Uie
mother.

" I can't reach it because of my nose," said the
daughter.

So, when the mother came out and saw her, you
may fancy what a way she was in, and how she screamed
and groaned ; but, for all that, there were the nose and
the snout and the pine bush, and diey got no ranaller
for all her grief.

Now the brother, who had got the place in the
King's stable, had taken a Uttle sketch of his sister, which
he carried away with him, and every morning and ereiy
evening he knelt down before the {ncture and {vayed t«
Our Lord for his sister, whom he loved so dearly. The
other grooms had beard him praying, so they peeped

.yCOOgIC

BDBHI BEIDE. 409

through the ke;-hoIe of hia room, and there the; saw
him OB his knees before the picture. So they went
about saying how the lad every moming and every
evening knelt down and prayed to an idol which he had,
and at last they went to the King himself and begged
him only to peep through the key-hole, and then His
Majesty, would see the lad, and what things he did.
At first the King wouldn't believe it, but at last they
talked him, over, and he crept on tiptoe to the door and
peeped in. Yes, there was the lad on his knees before
the picture, which hung on the wall, praying with
clasped hands.

" Open the door I " called out the King ; but the lad
didn't hear him.

So the King called out in a louder voice, bat the
lad was so deep in his prayers be couldn't hear him
this time either.

"Open thb doob, I say!" roared ont the King;
" It's I, the King, who want to come in."

Well, up jumped the lad and ran to the door, and
unlocked it, but in his huny he forgot to bide the picture.

Bat when the King came in and saw the picture,
he stood there as if he were fettered, and couldn't stir
from the spot, so lovely he thought the picture.

" So lovely a woman there isn't in all the wide
world," said the King,

T

U.g.VK.yC00glc

410 K0B8B TALES.

But tbe lad told lum she was hia sister wbcan he
hod drawn, and if she waia't prettier thitn that, at
least she wasn't nglier.

" Well, if ehe's so lovely," said the Eiog, " I'U baT»
her for my qneen;" and then he ordered the lad to
set off home that minute, and not be long on tbe road
eitfier. So tiie lad promised to make as mnch haste as
be conld, and started off from the Eing^s palace.

When the brother came home to fetch his uster,
the stepmother and stepsister said they most go too.
So they all set out, and the good lassie bad a casket in
which she kept her gold, and a Uttle dog, whose oame
was " Little Flo ; " those two things were all her mother
left her. And when they had gone a while, they came
to a lake which they had to cross ; so the brother sat down
at the helm, and the stepmother and Uie two giris sat
in the bow foreword, and so they suled a long, long way.

At last they oaught aighf of land.

"There," said the brother, "where you see the
white strand yonder, there's vfhecQ we're to laud;" and
as he said this be pointed across the water.

" What is it my brother says?" asked Ae good lassie.

" He says you must throw your casket- overboard,"
said the stepmother.

" Well, when my broUier says it, I most do it,"
Btud the lassie, and overboard went tbe casket.

.yCOOgIC

BUSET BBIDK. 411

When they had Bailed a bit farther, the brother
pointed again acroBS the lake.

" There yon see the castle we're going to."

" What ia it my brother says?" aaked the lassie.

" He Bays now yon mast throv your little dog
orerboard," said the stepmother.

Then the lassie wept and was sore grieved, for
Little Flo was the dearest thing she had in t^e world,
but at last she threw him orerboard.

" When iny brother says it, I most do it, but heaven
knows how it hurts me to throw you over, Littie Flo,"
she Biud.

Bo they Bfuled on a good bit still.

" There you see the King coming down to meet
ns," said the brother, and pointed towards the strand.

" What is it my brother says ?" asked the lassie.

" Now he says you must make haste and throw
yourself overboard," said the stepmother.

Well, the lassie wept and moaned ; bat when her
brother told her to do that, ebe thought she ought to do
it, and so she leapt down into the lake.

But when they came to the palace, and the King saw
the loathly bride, with a nose four ells long, and a snout
three ells long, and a pine-bush in the midst of her fore-
head, he was quite scared out of his wits ; bnt tiie wed-
ding was sH ready, both in brewing and- baking, and

U.g.VK.yC00glc

41^ H0B6B TALES.

there aat all the wedding gueste, waiting for ttie bride ;
and 60 the Ring couldn't help himself, but was forced to
take her for better for worse. But angry he waa, that
any one can forgire him, and so he had the brother
thrown into a pit fall of snakes.

Well, the first Thursday evening after the wedding,
about midnight, in came a lovely lady into the palace-
kitchen, and begged the kitchen-maid, who slept there,
BO prettily to lend her a brush. That she got, and
then she brushed her hair, and as she brushed, down
dropped gold. A little dog was at her heel, and to
him she stud, —

" Run out, Little Flo, onA see if it will soon be
day."

This she said three times, and the third time she
sent the dog it was just about the time the dawn begins
to peep. Then she had to go, but as she went she
sang, —

" Ool on you, ngly Bnshy Bgide,
I^ng BO vann bj the KIdi^'b loft nda;
While I on sand anil grKvel aleep,
And oyer my brother adders creep,
And all wlthont a tear.<'

" Now I come twice more, and then never again."

So next morning the kitchen-mtud told what- she

had seen and heard, and the King said he'd watch

himself next Thursday night in the kitchen, and see if

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BUSHT BBIDE. 413

it were tnie, and as soon ae it got dark, out he went
into the kitchen to the kitchen-mud. But all he coald
do, and howoTer much he rubbed his eyes and tried
to keep himself awake, it was no good ; for the Bushy-
bride chaunted and sang till his eyes closed, and so
when the lovely lady come, there he slept and snored.
This time, too, as before, ehe borrowed a brush, and
brushed her hair till tiie gold dropped, and sent her
dog out three times, and as soon as it was gray dawn,
away she went siogmg the same words, and adding, — ■
" Now I come once more, and then never again."
The third Thursday evening the King said he would
watch again ; and he set two men to hold him, one
onder each arm, who were to shake and jog him every

, tipie he wanted to fall asleep ; and two men he set to
watch his Bushy Bride, But when the night wore on,
the Bushy Bride began to chaunt and sing, so that his
eyes began to wink, and his head hung dowof on his

' shoulders. Then in came the lovely lady, and got the
brush and brushed her hair, till the gold dropped
from it ; ailer that she sent Little Flo out again to see
if it would soon be day, and this she did three times.
The third time it began to get gray in the east ; then
she sang —

" Out on jon, ogly Bushj Bride,
Lying BO wuno bj the King's left aida ;

U.g.VK.yC00glc

414 H0B8E TAUL&

Wlul« I on Hud vid gnrel slaep.
And over mj brother adders creep.
And all witbont a tear."

" Now I come back oeyer more," she said, and went
towards the door. Bat the two men who held the King
under the arms, clenched hie hands together, and pot a
knife into bis grasp, and so, somehow or other, the; got
him to cnt her in her little finger, and drew blood.
Then the true bride waa freed, and the King woke tq),
and she told him now the whole story, and how her step-
mother and sister had deceived her. So the King sent
at once and took her brother out of the pit of snakes,
and tlie adders hadn't done him Qie least harm, bat the
stepmother and her daughter were thrown into it in his
stead.

And now no one can tell how glad the King was
to be rid of that ugly Buahy Bride, and to get a Queen
who was so lovely and bright as the day itself. So the
true wedding was held, and every one talked of it over
seven kingdoms ; and then the King drove to chinch
in their coach, and Little Flo went inside with them
too, and when the blessing was given they drove back
again, and after that I saw nothing more of them.

.yCOOgIC

BOOTS AND HIS BROTHERS.

^NCE on a lime there was ft man who had three
bohb, Peter, Pan], and Jolm. John was Boots,
of course, because he was the youngest I can't say
the man had anything more than these three sous, for
he hadn't one penny to mh against another; and so
he told his sons over and over again they must go out
into the world and try to earn iJieir bread, for there at
home there was nothing to he looked for but stuping
to death.

Now, a bit off the man's cottage was the king's
palace, and yon most know, just against the king's
windows a great of^ had sprung up, which was bo stoat
and big that it took away all the light from the king's
palace. The King had said he woold give many,
many dollars to the man who could fell the oak, but no
one was man enough for that, for as soon as ever one
chip of the oak's trunk &ew off, two grew in its stead.
A well, too, the King had dug, which was to hold water
for the whole year ; for all his neighbours had wells,
bnt he hadn't any, and that he thought a shame.
So the King stud he would give any one who could dig

U.g.VK.yC00glc

41Q VOBSI TALES.

him Bnch a well ss would bold water for a whole year
round, both money and goods ; hut no one could do it,
for the King's palace lay high, high up on a hill, and
they hadn't dug a few inches before they came upon
the living rock.

But aa the King had aet his heart on having these
two things dose, he had it given oat far and wide, in
idl the churches of his kingdom, that he who could fell
tbe big oak in the king's court-yard, and get him a
well that would hold water the whole year round,
should have the Princess and half the kingdom. Well 1
you may easily know there vas many a man who came
to try his luck ; but for all their backing and hewing,
and all their digging and delving, it was no good.
The oak got bigger and stouter at every stroke, and
the rock didn't get softer either. So one day those
three brothers thought they 'd set off and try too, and
their father hadn't a word against it ; for even if they
didn't get the Princess and half the kingdom, it mig^t
happen they might get a place somewhere with a good
master ; and that was all he wanted. So when tlte
brothers smd they thought of going to the palace, their
father said " yes " at once. So Peter, Paul, and Jack
went off from their home.

Well [ they hadn't gone (ar before they came to
a fir wood, and up along one side of it rose a steep

.yCOOgIC

BOOTS AND HIS BBOTHEBB. 417

hill-nde, and as they went, tbej heard somethiog
hewing and hacking away up on the hill among the
trees.

" I wonder now what it is that is hewing away up
yonder?" Baid Jack.

"You're always. bo clever with your wanderings,"
said Peter and Paul hoth at once. " What wonder is
it, pray, that a woodcutter should stand and hack up ou
a hillside ? "

" Still, I'd like to see what it is, after all," said
Jack ; and up he went.

" Oh, if you're such a child, 'twill do yon good to
go and take a lesson," bawled out his brothers after

But Jack didn't care for what they said ; he climbed
the steep hill-side towards where the noise came, and
when he reached the place, what do you think he saw ?
why, an ais that stood there hacking and hewing, all of
itself, at the trunk of a fir.

" Good day ! " said Jack. " So you stand here all
alone and hew, do you ? "

"Yes; here I've stood and hewed and hacked a
long long time, waiting for you," said the Axe.

" Well, here I am at last," said Jack, as he took
the aze, pulled it off its haft, and stuffed both head and
haft into his wallet.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

418 N0B8X TALSa

So when he got down again to his brotheis, the;
began to jeei and laugh at him.

" And DOW, what immj thing was it yoa aav vp
yonder on the hill-side ? " they sud.

" Oh, it was only an axe we heard," said Jack.

So when they had gone a hit farther, they came
nnder a steep spur of rock, and np there they heard
something digging and ahorelling.

" I wonder now," stud Jack, " what it is di^ng
and shovelling up yonder at the top of the rocfc"

"Ah, yon 're always so clever with your wonder-
ings," said Peter and Paul again, "as if yon'd never
beard a woodpecker baoldng and pecking at a hollow
troe."

" Well, well," said Jack, " I think it would be a
piece of fan just to see what it really is."

And 80 off he set to climb the rock, wlule ibe
others laughed and made game of him. Bnt he didn't
care a bit for that ; np he clomb, and when he got near
the top, what do you think he saw ? Why, a spade
that stood there dig^ng and delving.

" Giood day 1" stud Jack. " So yon stand here all
alone, and dig and delve I "

"Yes, that's what I do," aaii the Spado, "and
that's what I've done this many a long day, waiting
for you."

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BOOTS AND HIS BBOTBXBS. 419

".Well, here I am," said Jack again, as he took the
spade and kuocked it off its handle, and put it into hia
wallet, and then down again to his hrothen.

" Well, what was it, bo rare and sbange," sud
Feter and Paul, " that yoa saw up there at the top of
the rock."

" Oh," said Jack, " nothing more than a Bpade ;
that was what we heard."

So they went on agun a good bit, till they came
to a brook. They were thirsty, all three, after their
long walk, and so they lay down beude the brook to
have a drink.

" I wonder now," awd Jack, " where aU this water
comes from."

"I wonder if you're ri^^t in your head," sud
Peter and Paul, in one breath. "If yoa 're not mad
already, you'll go mad very soon, with your wonderings.
Where the brook comes from, indeed I Have yoa
never heard how water riaes from a spring in the
earth?"

" Tes I bat still I 're a great fancy to see where this
brook comes irom," said Jack.

So ap alongside the brook he went, in spite of all
that his brothers bawled after him. Nothing could stop
him. On he went So, aa he went np and ap, the
brook got smaller and smaller, and at last, a little way

U.g.VK.yC00glc

420 NOBSS TALES.

farther od, what do you think he saw ? Why, a great
walnut, and out of that the water trickled.

" Good-day t" said Jack again. " So you lie here,
and trickle and ran down all alone ?"

" Tea, I do," said the Walnut ; " and here haye I
trickled and run thie many a long day, waiting fco*
you."

" Well, here I am," said Jack, as he took up a
lump of moss, and plugged up the hole, that the water
mightn't run out. Then he put the walnut into his
wallet, and ran down to his brothers.

" Well now," said Peter and Paul, " have you foand
out where the water comes Irom ? A rare sight it must
have been!"

" Oh, after all, it was only a hole it ran out of,"
said Jack; and so the others laughed and made game (^
him again, but Jack didn't mind that a bit

" After all, I had the fnn of seeing it," said he.

So when they had gone a bit farther, they came
to the king's palace ; but as every one in the kingdom
had heard how they might win tiie Princess and half
the realm, if they could only fell the big oak and dig
the king's well, so many had come to try their lack
that the oak was now twice as stout and big as it had
been at first, for two chips grew for every one they
hewed out with their axes, as I dare say you all bear in

U.g.VK.yC00glc

BOOI^ A.ND HIB BBOTEEBI- 421

miDd. So the King had now laid it down as a poDish-
ment, that if any one tried and conldn't fell Uie oak,
he should he put on a barren island, and both his ears
were to be clipped oflf. But the two brothers didn't
let themselves be scared by that ; they were quite sure
they could fell the oak, and Peter, as he was eldest,
was to try his hand first ; but it went with him as
with all the rest who had hewn at the oak ; for every
chip he cut out, two grew in its place. So the king's
men seized bim, and clipped off both his ears, imd put
him out 00 the island.

Now Paul, he was to try his luck, but he fared
just the same ; when he had hewn two or three strokes,
they began to see the oak grow, and so the king's men
seized him too, and clipped his ears, and put him out
on the island ; and his ears they clipped closer, because
they said he ought to have taken a lesson from his
brother.

So now Jack was to try.

"If you mU look like a marked sheep, we're
quite ready to clip your ears at once, and then you'll
save yourself some boAer," siud the King, for he was
angry with him for his brothers' sake.

" Well, I'd like just to try first," stud Jack, and
BO he got leave. Then he took his axe out of his
wallet and fitted it to its hail.

U.g.VK.yC00glc

422 NOBSB TALXB.

" Hew awaf 1 " said he to his axe ; and away it hewed,
making the chips fl; agun, so tiiat it wasn't long before
down came the oak.

When that was done, Jack pnlied oat his spade,
and fitted it to its handle.

"Dig away I" said he to the spade; and so the
spade began to dig and delve till the earth and rock
dew out in splinten, and so he had the well aoon dag
out, yon may think.

And when he had got it as big and deep as be
chose, Jack took out his walnut and lud it in ooe
comer of the well, and polled the plug of moss out.

" Trickle and run," SEod Jack; Emd so the nnt
trickled and ran, till the water gushed ont of the hole
in a stream, and in a short time the well was brimfhlL

Then Jack had felled the oak which shaded the
long's palace, and dug a well in the palace-yard, and
so he got the Princess and half the kingdom, as die
King had said ; but it was Incky for Peter and Paul
that they bad lost tbeir ears, else they had beard each
hoar and day, how every one said, " Well, after aB,
Jat^ wasn't so modi out of his mind when he took to
wondering."

.yCOOgIC

THE TWELVE WILD DUCKS.

/"VNCE on a time there was a Queen vho was out
driving, when there had been a new fall of snow
in the winter ; bat when she had gone a little way, she
began to bleed at the nose, and had to get out of her
aledge. And bo, as ehe stood there, leaning against the
fence, and saw the red blood on the white snow, she
fell a thinking how she had twelve sons and no daugh-
ter, and she said to herself,

" If I only had a daughter as white as snow and
as red as blood, I shouldn't care what became of all
my sons."

But the words were scarce out of her mouth before
an old witch of the Trolls came up to her.

" A daughter you shall have," she said, " and she
shall be aa white as snow, and as red as blood ; and
your sons shall be mine, but yon may keep them tOl the
babe is christoned."

S» when the time came the Queen had a daughter,
and she waa as white as snow, and as red as blood, just
as the Troll had promised, and so they called her
" Snow-white and Eosy-red." Well, there was great
joy at the King's court, and the Queen was as glad aa

424 NOBSE TALE&

glad could be ; but when what she had promised to the
old witch came into her mind, she sect for a BilTeiBmith,
aad bade him make twelve silver spoons, one for eac^
prince, and after that she bade him make one more, and
that she gave to Snow-white and Ro^-red. But as
soon as ever the Princess was christened, the Princes
were turned into twelve wild ducks, and flew awa;.
They never saw them again, — away they went, and away
they stayed.

So the Priaceas grew up, and she was both tall and
Eur, but she was often "so Strang and sorrowful, and no
one could understand what it was that failed her.
But one evening the Queen was also sorrowful, for she
had many strange thoughts when she thought of her
eons. She said to Snow-white and Rosy-red,

" Why are you so sorrowful, my daughter ? Is
tliere anything you want? if so, only say the word,
and you shall have it."

." Oh, it seems so dull and lonely here," said Snow-
white and Rosy-red ; " every one else has hrotliers and
sisters, but I am all alone ; I have none ; and that's why
I'm so sorrowful."

" But you h€id brothers, my daughter," said the
Queen ; " I had twelve sons who were your brothers,
but I gave them all away to get you ;" and so she told
her the whole story.

So when the Princess heaxd that, she had no rest ;

U.g.VK.yC00glc

TBI TWELVE WILD OUCEB. 425

for, in Bpitfi of nil the Queen could say or do, and all she
wept and prayed, the lassie would set off to seek her
brothers, for she thought it was all her fault ; and at
last she got leave to go away from the palace. On
and on she walked into the wide world, so far, you
woiild never have thought a young lady conld have
strength to walk bo far.

So, once, when she was walking through a great,
great wood, one day she felt tired, and' sat down on a
mossy tuft and fell asleep. Then she dreamt that she
went deeper aod deeper into the wood, till she came to
a little wooden hut, and there she found her brothers ;
just then she woke, and straight before her she saw a
worn path in the green moas, and this path went deeper
into the wood ; so she followed it, and after a long time
she came to just such a little wooden house as that she
had seen in her dream.

Now, when she went into the room there was no
one at home, but there stood twelve beds, and twelve
chairs, and twelve spoons — a dozen of everything, in
short. So when she saw that she was eo glad, she
hadn't been so glad for many a long year, for she could
guess at once that her brothers lived here, and that
they owned the beds, and chairs, and spoons. So she
began to make up the fire, and sweep the room, and
make the beds, and couk the dinner, and to make the
t2

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436 MOBBB TALKS.

house as tidy as riie conid ; and when she had dous all
tha cooking and work, she ate her own dinner, aad
crept under her youngest brother's bed, and lay down
diere, but she forgot her tipooa upon tlte table.

So she had scarcely lud herself down before she
heard aometbing flapping and whirring in the ur, and so
all the twelve wild ducks ctune sweeping in ; but as booh
as ever they crossed the threshold they becwoe Princes.

" Oh, bow nice and warm it is in here," they said.
" Heaven bless him who made up the fire, and cooked
such a good dinner for us."

And 80 each took up his Hlver spoon and was gwig
to eat But when each had taken his own, there was
one still left lying on tbe table, and it was so like liie
rest that they couldn't tell it from them."

" This is our aister's spoon," they said ; " and if
her spoon be here, she can't be very far off hersdC"

" If this be our mster's spoon, and she be here,"
said the eldest, " she shall be killed, for she ia to blame
for ^1 the ill we suffer."

And this she lay under the bed and listened to.

" No," said the youngest ; " 'twere a shame to kill
her for that. She has notliing to do with our sufi^ing
ill ; for if any one's to blame, it's our own mother."

So they set to work hunting for her both high and
low, and at last they looked under all the beds, and so
when they came to the youngest Prince's bed, they

THE TWBLVB WILD DUCKS. 42 (

foQTid her, and dragged her out. Then the eldest
Princ« wished again to have her killed, but she begged
and prayed so prettily for herself.

" Oh! gracious goodDees I don't kill me, for I've
gone about seeking you these three years, and if I
could only set yon free, I'd willingly lose my life."

" Well ! " said they, " if you will set os free, you
may keep your life ; for you can if you choose."

" Yes ; only tell me," said the Princess, " how it
can be done, and I'll do it, whatever it be."

" You must pick thistle-down," said the Princes,
" and you must card it, and spin it, and weave it ; mid
after you have done that, you must cat out and m^e
twelve coats, and twelve shirts, and twelve neckerchiefs,
one for each of us, and while you do that, you must
neither talk, nor langb, nor weep. If you can do that,
we are free."

" But where shall I ever get thistle-down enough
for so many neckerchiefs, and shirts, and coats?" asked
Snow-white and Rosy-red.

" We'll soon show yon," said the Princes; and so
they took her with them to a great wide moor, where
there stood snch a crop of thistles, all nodding and nod-
ding in tbe breeze, and the down all floating and glis-
tening tike gosBamers through the air in the sunbeams.
The PrinceBB had never seen such a quantity of thistle-
down in her life, and she began to pluck and gather it
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43iS NOBSE TALES.

aa &8t and as well as she could ; and when Bhe got
home at night she set to work carding aod spiiuuiig
yarn from the down. So she went od a long long
time, picking, and carding, and spinning, and all the
while keeping the Princes' house, cooking, and making
tboir beds. At evening home tliey came, flapping and
whirring like wild ducks, tmd all night they were
Princes, but in the momiag off they flew again, and
were wild dncks the whole day.

But now it happened once, when she was ont wi
the moor to pick thistle-down, — and if I don't mistake,
it was the very last time she was to go tfaitlier,- — ^it hap-
pened tiiat the young King who raled that land was bat
hunting, and came riding across the moor, and saw her.
So he stopped there and wondered who the lovely lady
could be that walked along the moor picking thistle-
down, and he asked her her name, and when he could
get no answer, be was still more astonished ; and at last
he liked her so much, that nothing would do but he
must take her home to his caatle and marry her. So
he ordered his servants to take her and put her np oo
his horse, ^now-white and Eosy-red, she wmng her
hands, and made signs to them, and pointed to the bags
in which her work was, and when the King saw she
wbhed to have them with her, be told his men to take
np the bags behind them. When they had done that
Uie Princess came to herself, little by little, for the King

THE TWBLVK WILD DUCKS. 429

was both a wise man and a handBome oaD too, and he
was as soil and kind to her as a doctor. But when
they got home to the palace, and the old Queen, who
was hiB stepmother, set eyes on Snow-white and Bosy-
red, she got so cross and jealous of her becaose she was
BO lovely, that she eaid to the king, —

" Can't you see now, that this thing whom you
have picked up, and whom you are going to marry, ie a
witch. Why? she can't either talk, or laugh, or weepl"

But the Eiug did n't care a pin for what she sud, but
held on with the wedding, and married Snow-white and
Rosy-red, and they lived in great joy and glory ; but she
didn't forget to go on sewing at her shirts.

So when the year was almost out. Snow-white and
Bosy-red brought a Prince into the world ; and then the
old Queen was more spiteful and jealous than ever, and at
dead of night, she stole in to Snow-white and Bosy-red,
while she slept, and took away her babe, and threw it
into a pit full of snakes. After that she cut Snow-white
and Rosy-red in her finger, and smeared the blood over
her mouth, and went straight to the King,

" Now come and see," she stud, " what sort of a
thing you have taken for your Queen; here she has
eaten up her own babe."

Then the King was bo downcast, he almost burst
into tears, and said, —

" Yes, it must be true, sure I see it with my own

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430 K0B8B TiI.ES.

eyes ; bat she'll not do it again. Tot sore and so tli»
time I'll spare bar life."

So before the next year vas ont she had auotlier
son, and the same thing happened. The King's step-
motiier got more and more jealoas and epitelol. She
stole in to the young Queen at nig^t while she slept, toc^
aw«7 the babe, and threw it into a pit fiill of snakes,
cat the yoong Qaeen'e Soger, and smeared the blood over
her moath, and then went and told the King she had
eaten up her own child. Then the King was so sorrow-
fal, you can't think how sorry be was, and he s^d, —

" Tee, it mast be tnie, since I see it with my own
eyes ; bnt she'll not do it agsdn, I'm sore, and so tliis
time too I'll spare her life."

Well 1 before tiie next year was out, Snow-white and
Rosy-red brought a daughter into the world, and ber,
too, the old Queeo took and threw into the pit full
of snakes, while the yoang Qneen slept. Then she cot
her finger, smeared the blood orer her mouth, and vent
agMn to the King and sud,—

" Now you may come and see if it isn't as I say;
she's a wicked, wicked witch, for here she has gone
and eaten up her third babe too."

Then the King was so sad, there was no end to it.
Sqz now he eouldn't spare her any liwger, bat had to
order her to be burnt alive on a pile of wood. Bot
just when the pile was all a-bla2», and they were going

THE TWELVE WILD DDCEB. 431

to put her od it, she made eigna to them to take twelre
boards and lay them round the pQe, and od these ahe
lud the neckerchiefs, aod the ebirta, and the coats for
her brothers, but the youngest brotber'a shirt wanted
its left arm, for she hadn't had time to finish it. And
as aooD as ever ahe had done that, they heard such a
flapping aod wbirriog in the air, and down uame twelve
wild dacka flying over the forest, tmd each of them
Bnq)ped up his clothes in his bill and flew oGF with them.

" See nowl" stud the old Queen to the King,
" wasn't I right when I told yon she was a witch ; but
make haste and burn her before the pile bums low."

" Oh I" said the King, " we've wood enough and to
spare, and so 111 wait a bit, for I have a mind to see
what the end of all this will be."

As he spoke up came the twelve princes riding
along, as handsome well-grown lada ae you'd wish to
see ; but the youngest prince had a wild duck's wing
instead of his left arm.

" What's all this abont ?" asked the Princes.

" My Queen is to be burnt," sud the King, " be-
cause she's a witch, and because she has eaten up her
own babes."

" She hasn't eaten them at all," said the Princes.
" Speak now, nster ; you have set us free and saved
us, now save yourself."

Then Snow-white and Rosy-red spoke, and told the

^^Vu.

4SS KOBSE TALBS.

whole story ; how every time she was brought to bed, the
old Qaeea, the King's etepmotber, had stolen into her at
night, had taken her babes away, and cat her httle
finger, and smeared the blood over hermonth ; and then
the Princes took the King, tmd shewed him the snabir-
pit where three babes lay playing with adders and toads,
and lovelier children yon never saw.

So the King had them taken oat at once, and went
to his stepmother, and asked her what punishment she
thought that woman deserved who could Bod it in her
heart to betray a guiltless Queen and three snch blessed
little babes.

" She deserves to be fast bound between twelve
unbroken steeds, so that each may take his share of
her," said the old Queen.

" Tou have spoken your own doom," said the King,
" and you shall suffer it at once."

So the wicked old Queen was fast boond between
twelve unbroken steeds, and each got his share of her.
But the King took Snow-white aod Rosy-red, and their
three children, and the twelve Princes ; and so they all
went home to their fatlier and mother, and told all Uiat
had befallen them, and there was joy and gladness over
the whole kingdom, because the Fiincess was saved and
set free, and because she had set free her twelve brothers.

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